Hitman's Target
by McGeeklover
Summary: Someone's out to get him. Problem is he has no idea who and why. His death could happen at any moment and right now, he's scared for his life. It's the first time he's ever been the target of an assassin. Slight tag to "Enemy on the Hill."
1. Prologue

**Hit-man's Target**

_Prologue_

"Why?"

"Because it's my job, McGee."

Tim took a shaky breath as he stared at the emotionless killer pointing a gun right at his head. He tore his gaze away from the menacing barrel of the gun and he looked over to the motionless slumped form by the bookcase.

"God, I really hope she's not dead," Tim thought as he brought his eyes back to the gun.

"You don't have to do this you know. I-I'll leave town- hell, I'll leave this country. Just please don't kill me." pleaded Tim.

"Oh but I have to or it's my ass on the line," the killer replied coldly.

"Fine. Let me rephrase that. You don't _want_ to kill me, because if you do, my Boss, he will hunt you down until he smashes you like the scum you are."

"I'll keep that in mind...after I do what I came here to do."

"I warned you," Tim sighed, trying to keep the bravery in his voice. _Well, I tried._

"Whatever," the killer responded with a sarcastic smile. He cocked the gun and aimed it for Tim's heart. "Goodbye, McGee."

Tim closed his eyes, taking his last deep breath. He couldn't believe this had happened. Why had this happened, he never did anything wrong- well, maybe a few things he could name off, but nothing worth getting murdered for. Hearing the loud pop of the gun and the instant searing pain in his chest was the last thing he registered before he slipped into oblivion.

**TBC. Well? Should I continue? Reviews and maybe I will :)))) Thanks**


	2. Undead

**Chapter 2**

_5 Days Earlier_

"Gear up!"

"Where we goin', Boss?" asked Tony as he gathered his things.

"Another Navy Lt.?" McGee said copying Tony's movements.

"Nope. Assassin. We're meeting up with Detective Sportelli on scene," replied Gibbs as the team piled into the elevator

"Oh great, just my luck," grumbled Tony. He suddenly winced when he felt the sharp and familiar slap on the back of his head. "Sorry, Boss."

Ziva chuckled and they made there way out of the building and toward the car.

They arrived at the scene looking around at what they were going to be dealing with. In the middle of the taped off street, a man in his forties, known as Wesley Don Harris, was sprawled face up on the black-top. His eyes were closed and blood was trickling down the corner of his mouth. A holster for where a machine gun should be, sat strapped around his chest and the team guessed that Sportelli's men removed it. Gibbs scowled as he thought of someone else messing with his case. If the Detective was smart enough, he would of realized that the body wasn't supposed to be touched until Ducky looked at it. When Ducky did a liver probe, he was shocked.

"His body temperature is quite high, Jethro, almost as if he's not even dead."

"Well he looks dead to me, Duck, his chest isn't even moving. What about a pulse?"

Ducky leaned over and put his fingers to the cold neck of the deceased.

"Well, I don't feel one, but it's still suspicious. I'll have to get him back to autopsy to figure out the enigma."

Gibbs nodded as he gestured to his team to get to work. Tony on sketches, Ziva with witnesses and McGee taking photos.

"Did you see anything out of the ordinary, Miss..."

"Mrs. Stanton. Dorothy Stanton, and no there wasn't, everything was serene. Just any old ordinary. Before I knew it, a guy was walking out into the street and got slammed by a car. But, I guess it was his own fault."

"Why's that?" questioned Ziva sounding amused.

"Well, his head was down like he was on his phone, that's why I disapprove of those horrible devices. I prefer pagers, much safer."

Ziva smirked as she thanked Dorothy and moved on to the next witness.

"It's Kind of ironic, right?" asked Tony as he sketched the scene.

"What is?" replied Tim snapping a photo of the gun holster.

"The assassin being the one getting killed. You'd think he'd be more aware of his surroundings."

"Yeah...I guess so," said Tim rolling his eyes.

"Come on, McTim, laugh once in a while. You've been so...I don't know...quiet lately. Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm fine, I'm just tired. I haven't getting much sleep recently; I have this gut feeling that something's wrong, but I can't put my finger on it."

"Well, I hope you're not turning into Gibbs with you're gut feelings, though you're not as old as him, unless you got gray hair and a- he's right behind me isn't he."

"Yep," Tim said with a smile and he went back to the pictures.

Tony grimaced as he waited for the "Gibbs Slap." He waited but nothing came. Turning around, he noticed Gibbs was far away talking to Sportelli.

"You lied!" Tony shouted as he faced a laughing Tim. "Thanks a lot, you had me scared for nothing."

McGee just laughed as he finished up with the pictures of the body. Suddenly he noticed a white slip of paper sticking out from the inside pocket of the trench coat. Snapping a picture, he stored away the camera and leaned down to pick it up. He opened it up and read the what was on it.

_Target's Location:_

_Washington D.C, lives in an apartment in Silver Springs. Find out more_

_Reason for death:_

_Knows too much_

_Works at:_

_A Federal Agency_

Tim felt some color leave his face as he read this. He lived in Silver Spring, he worked at a Federal Agency, but it couldn't be him right? There were tons of people who worked at Federal Agencies and lived were he lived. McGee breathed nervously shaking the thoughts out of his head. He, suddenly jumped slightly at the light touch on his shoulder.

"Hey, McGee, did you hear me? What did you find there?" It was Gibbs.

"Oh, ah, it's a note about his next target," Tim said handing it to his Boss.

"You okay, Tim? You look like you've seen ghost."

"Yeah, I-I'm fine, it's just strange. I've been having this feeling that something bad is gonna happen and then reading that...it's just weird."

Gibbs studied him for a second before walking away, "Well, yeah this is a strange case, Tim. See if you can find anything else that indicates who he was coming to kill."

Tim nodded as he went back to photographing and searching. He began to reach into another inside coat pocket when the unexpected happened. He heard as raspy gasp and felt something grab his wrist. Tim yelled as he pulled back, unable to get away from the grip of his attacker. When he looked down, though, he saw who was holding him. It was the supposedly dead assassin, and he was looking right into the eyes of the cold, yet pain filled eyes.

"We need a medic!" Tim heard Gibbs distant voice yell.

Tim couldn't breathe. Something was wrong. Harris' eyes looked at him, as if he recognized him. The grip on his wrist grew so tight that it hurt and his hand was getting cold due to lack of blood. Then, out of no where, Harris grinned evilly and opened his mouth to say something, but the EMT's came and interrupted, removing the death grip on Tim. All Tim could do, though after wards, was stare. He couldn't move, he felt like he couldn't breathe and his face, he was pretty sure, had lost all color.

"-Gee! -cGee! Tim, can you hear me?"

"Huh?" Tim said, finally becoming aware of what was going on as he faced Gibbs.

"I said are you alright?"

"I-I don't- I don't know, Boss," replied Tim as he walked pass Gibbs and to the van. He needed to take a breather. When he got there, he sat down shakily in the back and noticed for the first time how much his wrist hurt. Looking at it, he saw it was red and bruises began forming. Wincing, he closed his eyes and thought. Something was way off. The way Wesley looked at him, that evil smile, and to top it off, the weird note. No doubt that he was the target. He just hoped he was wrong.


	3. I'm the Target?

**Chapter 3**

** Thanks everybody for the reviews and liking my story. I wanted to start this chapter earlier and quicker so I did started a rough draft in school even though I should have been paying attention lol. Well, here's the next chapter, hope you like it. Thanks for reading :)**

The ride back was quiet and tense. Tim sat staring blankly out the window, lost in his thoughts, completely unaware of the continual concerned looks of his two friends or that his throbbing hand was shaking uncontrollably. He couldn't erase the horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach, those ice cold eyes filled with recognition. This week was just getting worse and worse by the minute.

"Is McGeek, okay?" Tony whispered to Ziva as he turned another corner. He saw what had happened at the crime scene. The exact thing had happened to Ducky, awhile back, when a marine supposedly frozen to death, woke up before Ducky could start the autopsy.

"I don't know, but he is looking kind of peaked," Ziva replied, noticing how bad McGee's hand was trembling. She didn't know if it was out of pain or shock, but it was unusual. She leaned over and lightly tapped McGee on the shoulder, not failing to noticed how he flinch as if someone was going to attack him. She couldn't blame him, though, it's chilling to think that someone is dead only to have them come alive on you.

"Are you alright, Tim? You seem pulpy, is it?"

Tim pulled himself out of his thoughts and faced Ziva. He gave a slight smile, but it disappeared at quickly as it'd come and returned his gaze out the window. Tony watched the road, but still listening, waiting for a response.

"It's jumpy, and no, I'm fine; just a bit shocked, you know? I didn't expect for Harris to come back from the dead."

Ziva nodded, skeptical about his excuse. Something else was bothering him, but she didn't want to impose.

"Wesley Don Harris, 46 and he lives in... California," Tony said frowning. "That's funny, why would he be all the way in D.C?"

"Probably to kill me," mumbled Tim.

"What was that, McGee?" Tony said turning around to face Tim.

"Nothing," sighed Tim, looking at the picture of Harris on the tv screen. Those eyes, so dark and emotionless that it made him shudder. They were back in the squad room trying to find more information on the assassin. Gibbs was at the hospital with Sportelli, waiting to hear Wesley's condition.

"He's wanted in 45 plus Russia and Spain," continued Ziva as she got up from her desk and studied the screen.

"Well, now we've caught him. Congrats," said Sportelli as he strolled in behind Gibbs, who sat down at his desk. "Mr. Harris, aka. "The snake," is in critical condition, surprisingly, so we'll just have to wait until he's unconscious so we can speak to him."

"Why is he called The Snake?" asked Ziva curiously.

"Because every time he kills someone somewhere, witnesses see him, hell even the police see him, but it's like he slithers away and hides in the sidewalk cracks. Like he was never there."

"What do you got there Detective?" Tony stated as he pointed to a fold underneath Sportelli's arm. "Another thing you gonna hide from us and keep us in the dark?"

Sportelli glared at him, receiving the same gesture from Tony, but removed the folder and began sifting through the papers inside.

"We found his car about a block away from where The Snake was hit. When we looked through it, we found a bunch of his notes along with two other weapons: a .45 Caliber and a rifle."

Tim watched the detective as he looked through the papers, trying to find something in particular. He could feel something was wrong; he could feel it and it was approaching. He took a deep and shaky and waited for the blow to come.

"Ah, here we go; I found his next assignment. It's seems that his next target is..." he trailed off becoming a bit pale. He looked up and started at the team in worry.

"What? Who is it?" asked Gibbs becoming impatient. He glanced over at McGee, seeing that he, too, was colorless and that he was hardly breathing. Gibbs decided he'd talk to him later, and he turned back to look at the speechless Sportelli. Sportelli sighed and continued, "His next target is Special Agent Timothy McGee."

** TBC :)) Thanks for reading. Reviews are much appreciated! :)**


	4. To Safe House 8 We Go

**Chapter 4**

** Thanks for the reviews! I couldn't wait any longer so I'll update another chapter :)) Here you go, enjoy :)**

Everyone turned to look at Tim, to deep in shock to say anything; this made the squad room disturbingly and awkwardly silent. They saw how pale and still Tim was, it was almost like he was transparent.

Tim looked around at his team and Sportelli, staring at their surprised faces. He began to feel squeamish under their scrutiny and it he could feel his face turn scarlet. _Yep. He had a feeling it'd be him._ He had to get away. Jumping up from out of his chair, he bolted to the nearest men's room, feeling like he was going to puke.

When Gibbs heard his agent's name as the next target, he had to double take, making sure he heard correctly. When Sportelli didn't break out laughing at, what Gibbs thought, his idea of a sick joke, he knew it was true. He turned to face McGee along with everybody else in the motionless room, and watched as Tim looked around, clearly shocked and scared, and then he jumped up from his chair and rushed out of the room. Gibbs sighed, this couldn't be happening. It had been awhile, but first it'd been Ari setting out to kill him, now Tim's name was on the list and who knows how many assassin's knew about it. Worse of all, The Snake was not dead so he couldn't scratch out the possibility that he could get better and finish his duty.

"Tony, Ziva, go up to the conference room. Bring Sportelli and the file with you. I'll be up with Tim in a couple minutes."

Tony snapped out of his daze and nodded, leading the other two upstairs. Gibbs sighed and followed to where Tim had gone. Probably the bathroom; he opened the door and he instantly could hear the tell-tale sounds of Tim retching. Gibbs locked the bathroom door and made his way over to the occupied stall. He saw Tim hunched over the toilet bowl, puking his guts out. Gibbs crouched down and put an assuring hand on Tim's back as he waited for Tim to finish.

McGee ran frantically to the men's room, desperate to get to the toilet before he spilled his lunch all over the floor. Bursting through the door, he collapse in the nearest stall and hunched over the toilet. He made it just in time. He kept heaving until there was nothing left. He tried to stop, but he couldn't so all he could do was dry heave. Suddenly he felt a warm hand on his back which caused him to flinch a little. After he was sure he finished, he lifted his head and sat back. Leaning his head against the wall and closing his eyes, he took several deep breaths, trying to relax. But how could he? He was on a freakin' hit list!

"You okay, Tim?" he heard a sharp but calm voice.

Tim opened his eyes and saw a blurry version of his Boss looking at him with worry.

"Boss?" he rasped, squeezing his eyes shut to get better focus. "What-what are you doing here? I think- I think I just ate some bad food. I'll be fine." Tim reopened his eyes and saw that Gibbs knew he was lying. He never was a good liar.

"The hell you are, Tim. Look, I know it's shocking and terrifying, but you're forgetting one thing. You work at a safe and secure federal agency and you have people-you have us who can protect you, alright?"

Tim studied his Boss then nodded, wiping his mouth with his sleeve and sighed. "Okay. Thanks Boss."

"Can you get up?" asked Gibbs.

"Y-yeah I think so," stuttered Tim. He pushed himself towards the wall and stood up. Apparently he got up to fast, because the next thing he knew he was back on the ground, Gibbs holding him up a little.

"What happened?" Tim asked, confused.

"You blacked out, McGee. You need to take it easy. Have you been sleeping at all lately?"

"No, not really. I can't, actually, since I've been having these gut feelings and nightmares."

"Well, I'll have Ducky look you over later. Right now we need to go up to the conference room with the rest of the team and talk about what we're going to do next."

Tim nodded as he was helped back up by Gibbs. Once he was sure he wasn't going to take a nose dive to the floor again, he followed Gibbs to the elevator and they got off on the top floor, making their way to the conference room. When they arrived inside they saw Tony and Ziva bickering and Sportelli drinking coffee by the window. The room went quiet when they were noticed; Tony was about to say something, but one look from Gibbs and he remained silent. Suddenly the door opened again, revealing Ducky, Abby and the Director. Tim slunk down in his seat, embarrassed that he had to go through this. He could handle this on his own, and he definitely didn't need Abby in on this.

"Oh my god, Timmy, I can't believe this is happening to you. Usually it's Tony or Gibbs but you...nothing should ever happen to you, you're too nice!" squealed Abby as she gave Tim a big spine cracking hug.

"Thanks, Abby," Tim said in a strained voice.

"What's going on, Gibbs? I just heard from Detective Sportelli that one of my best agents is on a hit list." Vance questioned as he took a seat next to Ducky.

"Well, that's what we're trying to figure out, Vance. We had a call out, the person that was "dead" was a professional assassin. It turned out, though, that the assassin, Wesley Harris, was not dead and is being tended for at Mercy Hospital."

"He's being watched, I hope?"

"Yes." replied Gibbs. He took a seat on the other side of Tim and faced the other people in the room. Tim hadn't said a word and he was still looking to pale for his liking. He caught Ducky's eyes and the doctor nodded, knowing that he was to check Tim's health.

"We've requested a safe house, Boss, assuming that Harris knows where McGee lives, and three other agents to help out." said Tony. "According to Harris' file, he's a pro and he won't stop until his target is dead." Out of the corner of his eye he saw Tim wince and Ziva, Abby, and Gibbs glare at him.

"Sorry."

"Which safe house is it?" asked Vance.

"Safe house #8," replied Ziva as Vance nodded.

"Don't worry, Tim, we will keep you safe," Ziva said smiling sadly at Tim.

McGee nodded without looking up. Once again, he was lost in his own thoughts, wondering if he should let his teammates-his friends- risk their life for him. Was he really worth it? After all he was just one life; one loss is better than 2 or more.

"I know what you're thinking, Timmy," Abby's voice cut through his musings and she put a comforting hand on his arm. "We all know we're risking our lives, but we just want to keep you safe. We can't lose you like we lost...Kate."

Tim looked at her and sighed. He guessed Abby was being reasonable, but if one of them got hurt, he could never live it down. He nodded even though he was still skeptical, he just wouldn't tell them that.

"So what do we do now?" Tim said, speaking for the first time since they got to the conference room.

"Well first Ducky needs to check on how you're feeling, then we'll bring you to you apartment, pack some stuff and then we'll make our way to the safe house. The team will switch off watching over you."

"Okay."

"Sportelli, do you have anything else on Harris? It might help us a little more on the case."

"Not that I know of, Gibbs, but I'll give you a call if I find anything new."

Gibbs nodded and with that, the occupants of the room filed out and got to work. Tim followed Ducky down to autopsy to get checked. After Ducky ordered some much needed sleep and nutrients, Gibbs and Tony drove Tim to his house to get his stuff. When he finished, the three made their way to safe house #8, making sure they weren't being followed. But little did they know a certain someone had escaped the hospital an hour earlier and since he was a pro assassin, he followed Tim's car undetected. Tim McGee was going to die soon.

** This one took like two hours to write omg! Let me know what you think :)) I may write another chapter tomorrow, depending on if I can think of what I'm going to write how I'm going to write it. Wish me luck :)) NCIS marathon tomorrow, btw! :) Thanks!**


	5. Escape

**Chapter 5**

_1 hour earlier_

He was in pain. Everything hurt and the constant beeping was not helping had happened? He was on his way to his car when he was slammed by what felt like an elephant. Then it came to him; he vaguely remembered those terrified green eyes staring down at him. It was him, he was the one he was supposed to kill. If getting hit by a truck didn't kill him, his Boss sure would when he found out he didn't finish the job. Harris opened his eyes slowly and looked around the dimly lit room. Well, he wasn't dead that's for sure; now he had to figure out how to get out of the hospital. No doubt that there was an officer guarding the door, so that may be a challenge, especially in his condition. Oh well, he was The Snake, and he always got away with everything. He sat up and put his legs over the side of the bed, but before he could move, he felt himself being restrained.

"Of course," said Harris, clearly annoyed. The shackles chained him to the hospital bed, but nothing a paperclip couldn't fix. The officer probably removed anything that would help him escape, but no worries, he had a secret hiding place. Reaching up to his head, he felt around through his hair until he felt the unusual shaped bump on his scalp.

"Aha!" he exclaimed as he lifted a small piece of his scalp and removed the paperclip from underneath it. It was a gross and unusual place to put something, but it was efficient and no one would think to loo there. Wesley bent the paperclip and fiddled with it in the lock hole of the handcuff until he heard a click. He smiled evilly as he removed the brace and massaged his wrist. Now to get out of this hospital. Wesley slowly got up, groaning in pain as he moved his torso. He made a mental note to get some pain medication before he started his quest to find McGee. After removing the IV line and other wires, Wesley quietly made his way to the window; peeking from behind the shades, he found that the only occupants in the hallway were the guard and a couple nurses. _Easy. _Taking the paperclip out again, he stealthily opened the door and with a swift motion, he plunged the paperclip into the guards neck and dragged him back into his room. The man gasped and struggled in Wesley's hold, but Wesley, despite his pain, was strong and he kept the paperclip there, sticking it deeper into the flesh of the man. Finally, after three minutes of gasping and struggling, the guard went limp, blood seeping out of his small wound, as Wesley let him crumple to the ground. _One mission down, three to go._

Wesley slunk out out of the room, making sure his murder went undetected. It did. He walked casually down the hall, hiding away every time someone came close. He finally came across his first destination. The scrub room. He went inside and changed out of his robes and into some mossy green scrubs. They didn't look good on him-hell he despised them, but he wasn't going to walk around town half naked. He would just have to live with it until he got to his temporary apartment. He left the room and walked out of the hospital. By the time the doctors went to his room, found the dead guard and called for security, Wesley Don Harris left without a trace.

** Ehh. This was a short and slow chapter, I didn't even like it that much. But no worries, I'll get back to Tim and the team in the next chapter and it will be better than this one :) Reviews welcome, Thanks :))**


	6. Found

**Chapter 6**

**Sorry for the looonng wait. I was at my mom's house for the weekend and she has no internet! Can believe that! Thankfully I'll be at my dad's (who had internet :)) til Sunday! So here's chapter 6, enjoy! :)**

"Here we are, safe house number eight," stated Tony as he pulled into the driveway. He sighed as he unbuckled and turned to Tim. Catching Gibbs' eye, he could see that it was filled with concern. McGee hadn't budged from his position since they left the navy yard. Expressionless green eyes stared out the window, note even acknowledging that they'd stopped.

"Tim," Tony shouted as he reached back and shook McGee's shoulder.

"Huh?" Tim said startled. Tony and Gibbs didn't fail to notice all the color had drained from McGee's face when Tony touched him. When McGee realized it was just his teammates, he relaxed as he rubbed his hand down his face.

"You okay, Tim?" asked Gibbs.

"Y-yeah, Boss, I guess I'm just tired is all," Tim breathed as he shakily got out of the car.

Gibbs sighed heavily and gave Tony one last worried glance before they both got out and followed Tim to the door. Once they got inside, Gibbs flicked the light on and looked around. Safe house eight was one of the good ones: Plasma TV's, king sized beds, giant bathrooms with tubs that could fit ten people in it.

"Wow, you are so lucky McPrey, you got all this awesome stuff!" Tony gawked. Silence. "Tim?" Tony noticed that both Gibbs and Tim had left the front hallway. He walked to the kitchen and found Gibbs talking on the phone.

"Yeah...yes, we just arrived at the house...okay, I'll call later for a check-in," and with that, Gibbs hung up. He noticed Tony giving him a questioning look.

"Vance."

"Ah. Hey, do you know where McGee went?" asked Tony.

"No, wasn't he with you?" Gibbs questioned, worry gnawing at the pit of his stomach. He saw Tony's eyes grow wide and they both took off, frantically searching for McGee.

"McGee!" shouted Tony.

"Tim, where are you?"

No answer.

"McGee! Where are you?" Tony yelled, getting more and more scared every moment they couldn't locate McGee. What if he was hurt? What if he was kidnapped?

"McGee!"

"...Yea?" a faint voice rang out from upstairs.

Gibbs and Tony released their breath they didn't even realize they were holding. The tightness in their chest eased, knowing Tim was okay. They made their way upstairs and peeked inside each of the rooms until they found the occupied one. Tim was sitting on the edge of the bed looking like he was about to pass out.

"Y-you called me?"

"Yeah. You can't just run off like that, Tim. You need to let us know where you're going." said Gibbs anger rising at the carelessness of his agent.

"Sorry," Tim said with a sheepish smile on his face. "I was just really tired and I instantly came up here."

"It's okay, McGee," sighed Gibbs releasing the tension. "Just don't do it again, alright? Tim nodded as he got back into the bed.

"Get some rest, McGee and we'll be here when you wake up, okay?" Tony said patting Tim on the shoulder.

"Mm-hmm," said McGee, already half asleep. Gibbs and Tony smirked and left the room, shutting the door behind them. Traveling back downstairs, they settled down, but ready for any threat that came their way. He watched as the light turned off in the highest window. It was showtime. He pulled out his new gun from his new holster he'd gotten after he changed at his apartment. Now he was ready, he just had to wait for the lights downstairs to turn off, then he could move. He shifted his weight to his left foot, wincing a bit at the pain in his chest. He had taken some pain pills before he left, but obviously they were crappy and wearing off. Wesley shrugged it off; it wasn't important. What was important was that he finished his job before his Boss found out he was a day behind. He didn't worry though, the time was nearing and soon Timothy McGee would be dead by his hand.

"He's what!"

_"It's seems that he escaped five hours ago, Leon."_

"And why am I just hearing about it now? Five hours later!"

_"We had to make sure Harris wasn't still in the hospital, Director."_

"Okay, but you should have called me earlier. It doesn't take five hours to look for a patient when you have about 300 plus staff in the hospital, not to mention your unit also, Chief."

_"Director, I'm terribly sorry for not informing you quicker."_

"Your damn right you are," Vance replied, the anger easing. He was still very pissed that the chief of metro just called him. Harris could well be out of state by now. On second thought, maybe on his way to find McGee. He had to warn Gibbs.

_"Director?"_

"What!" Vance yelled, being pulled out of his thoughts.

_"There's another thing. Harris killed the guard that was outside his room. It looks like he'll go through hell and high waters, killing anyone in his path to get to your agent."_

Vance sighed, annoyed at this whole ordeal. Why did these things always happen to Gibbs' team?

"Okay, thanks for letting me know, Chief, and call me as soon as you find anything else, got it?"

"Yes, sir."

Vance hung up and pinched the bridge of his nose. Gibbs was not going to like this new information. If he'd been pissed about Harris' escape and not knowing until hours later, who knows how mad Gibbs was going to be. Vance picked up the phone and dialed Gibbs' cell.

Finally, the lights were out, it was time to make his move. He pulled a ladder out from under the brush and brought it towards the house. Leaning it underneath the designated window, he because to climb it, his heart racing faster with excitement with each step.

"Yeah, Gibbs."

Tony jerked awake from his place on the couch, wondering who could be calling at three in the morning. His gut was telling him something wasn't right, and his question was answered when he saw the pissed yet scared expression on his Boss' face.

"What? When!" yelled Gibbs. "Why am I just finding out about this now, Vance? Well, do you have any idea...okay just call-" before he finish his sentence, the two agents heard a loud crash coming from upstairs followed by a strangled cry. Tony instantly jumped up and made his way to the bedroom.

"I'll have to call you back, Vance," said Gibbs, hanging up and following Tony.

He found them.

** Sorry for the cliffhanger. Thanks for the many reviews! More chapters to come, even I'm scared on what's going to happen!**


	7. Attacked

**Chapter 7**

** Here we go, Chapter 7! Hope you like it, because I couldn't stop writing and had to write another chapter before I lost all the ideas and thoughts for this chapter. Thanks and enjoy!**

_7 Minutes earlier_

McGee tossed and turned in his bed. He still couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to happen. Should he be worried though? Gibbs and Tony were right downstairs, so there was no way Harris was going to attempt to kill him, right? McGee shifted again, facing the window as he opened. Suddenly, he thought he saw Harris' face in the window. He shut his eyes tight then reopening them to see that, thankfully no one was there. His eyes and mind was just playing trick on him. _He hoped_. Tim closed his eyes again, hoping to get back to sleep; sighing deeply, he began to drift off. Before he could, he suddenly felt something cold and metal press on his forehead. His heart beat faster hoping it wasn't what he thought it was. Slowly opening his eyes, Tim found himself face to face with Harris. He couldn't speak, this was a nightmare, he really hope this was all just one big nightmare. He watched horrifyingly as Harris smiled evilly and brought a finger up to his mouth, telling him to be quiet. He had to get out of here, at least attempt to. He didn't want to feel helpless, waiting for Harris to put a bullet in his head.

Tim jumped back out of the bed, knocking the lamp to the floor as he felt himself go with it. He found himself on the floor the next minute, muscles aching and his head pounding. _Great he hit his head on the nightstand, good going, Tim. _He tried to get up and move for the door, but he was too late. McGee let out a small cry as he felt himself being lifted up by his throat. Harris pushed him against the wall and began to strangle him. This was it, he was done for. But why didn't he just shoot him? He had a gun.

"I want to see you suffer first," said Harris as if reading his mind. Tim tried to wring out of the tight grip, struggling to breath, but it was no use. Harris was too powerful; who was he kidding, Harris was an assassin, how could he think that he could escape? Suddenly, through the water sounds in his ears, he could hear frantic footsteps approaching. _Gibbs was coming. To bad he was going to be too late. _But to his luck, Harris' grip loosened and McGee fell in a heap on the ground.

"You're lucky you're friends are here, or you'd be dead in seconds. I guess tonight's not your night, but don't fret, I'll be back for you soon." growled Harris as he kicked Tim in the face, and with that, he climbed back out the window and out of sight.

Tim watched through watery and blurry eyes as his attacker disappeared. He _was_ fortunate that Gibbs and Tony were there. He took deep wheezing breaths as he attempted to regain control of his breathing. Just then, Gibbs and Tony barged in, guns pointing in every corner off the room. The adrenaline rush was disappearing and the pain in his head, and now face, was coming back. It hurt so much. The last thing he saw was Gibbs looking out the window, having a very steamed look on his face, before he welcomed darkness.

Tony and Gibbs ran up the stairs, desperate to get to Tim. Gibbs watched as Tony reached McGee's bedroom and took out his gun, Gibbs doing the same. Tony kicked down the door and Gibbs followed the agent inside. Harris was gone...again. The only thing left was a messed up bedroom, an open window and Tim, on the floor, looking worse for wear, and fighting hard to get his breathing back to normal. Gibbs ran to the window, pointing his gun outside, looking for the son of a bitch that attacked his agent. He suddenly saw a dark figure running off into the trees. They lost him._ Dammit!_ Pulling out his phone, Gibbs called for backup-_ so much for a safe house_- and only then did he see the ladder below him. It was too easy for the professional assassin to get to Tim.

"Boss," Tony called out, disrupting Gibbs from his thoughts. He turned around only to see a very pale McGee unconscious in Tony's arms. As he got closer, he saw a dark bruise forming on the young agent's neck. _The bastard tried to strangle him!_ Gibbs got angrier with every injury he found. He saw that blood was seeping out from a cut on Tim's lip, along with a gash on the back of his head. _When he got his hands on that son of a bitch, he was going to wish he'd never become an assassin- _hell,_ he was going to wish he'd never been born._ They had to move to some place else; their hiding spot had been compromised. But first Tim needed a hospital.

** OMG! I can't believe I did that to Tim! At least I didn't kill him...yet. JK! Or am I? *laughs evilly* Reviews are much appreciated, and I can't wait to write the next chapter! Thanks :))**


	8. Moving

**Chapter 8**

** Once again, I wrote this chapter in school when I was supposed to be either reading or working on my homework ha ha. But I don't care I just wanted so badly to write this chapter before the ideas disappeared out of my minds. Thanks for all the wonderful reviews! Here's the next chapter. P.S I couldn't wait for one more day to update this when I got to my dad's so I updated it at school lol! **

Gibbs looked at the unconscious body of his younger agent sadly. He couldn't believe he let this happen. Tim should have been where he could see him, not hiding away in a closed bedroom. He bent down and put two fingers on Tim's cold neck, feeling for a pulse. He sighed with relief; it was fast, but steady. Even so, Tim needed medical attention. Then again, Tim wouldn't be any safer in a hospital. If Harris could find them in a freakin' safe house, it would be as easy as stealing candy from a baby to get to McGee at the hospital. They would have to move him somewhere different, less public.

"Tony, he me move him to the bed," said Gibbs as he put a comforting hand on Tim's forehead, then removed it as he hooked his arms under Tim's armpits. Tony nodded solemnly and grabbed McGee's legs and two agents brought Tim over to bed, gently placing down.

"Call Ziva and have her pick up Ducky. Get them both over here."

"On it, Boss," said Tony as he pulled out his phone and dialed Ziva's number. "Hey...No, Tim was attacked, Harris somehow found us...Well he may have a concussion and his lip is pretty busted along with a bruised cheek. The worst part was that the SOB tried to strangle him, so Tim's throat needs to be checked out. Can you call Ducky and get him over here? Okay, see you later." Tony ended the call and looked at Gibbs who was currently trying to wake Tim up.

"Ziva's on her way with Ducky, Boss."

"Alright. Now help me wake him up. I may be wrong, but I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to sleep with a possible concussion."

Tony agreed as he walked over to the sleeping agent. McGee wasn't going to be happy, but it was either waking up or slipping into a coma.

"McGee...McSleeping Beauty...McLazy...Tim!" Tony rambled with any 'Mc' name that came to mind as he lightly slapped his friend's face.

"Come on, buddy, wake up!"

Nothing. Gibbs joined in after receiving no response. Now McGee was gonna have to answer to him. He began gently shaking Tim by the shoulders as he called out.

"Come on, Tim, you need to wake up," shouted Gibbs. He really hoped they weren't too late.

Finally, they were rewarded by a small groan, followed by glassy green eyes peeking out from behind fluttering eyelids.

"Probie, wake up," Tony repeated.

"Wah? What happe'd?" slurred Tim as he began to sit up. Gibbs winced at the rough sound of his agent's voice as he lightly pushed Tim back down. _When he got his hands on Harris..._

"You need to stay lying down, Tim. You may have a concussion, so Ducky will be here soon to check it; you need to stay awake though, okay?"

Tim nodded slowly, but he quickly began to drift off.

"Hey!" Gibbs shouted as Tim's eyes reopened. "What did I tell you, McGee? I know it's tough, but you need to keep your eyes open, okay? In the meantime, why don't you tell us what happened?"

So Tim reminisced back to what happened, telling Gibbs and Tony from when Harris had a gun to his head to when he'd been kicked in the face.

"I-I don't-" McGee yawned- "I don't really remembered what happened after that, Boss.

S-sorry."

"It's okay, Tim, you did good," Gibbs said patting McGee on the shoulder. Just then, Ducky came strolling in, Ziva only one step behind him.

"Oh dear, Timothy," he said when he saw how pale McGee was. "It seems you got yourself a bit of trouble on your hands." Ducky went over to Tim and checked his pupils and the wound on the back of his head. Afterward, he inspected the bruise on the young agents throat and checked the inside of his throat.

"It seems that there is a bit of inflammation of the pharynx-or in layman's, throat- along with a minor concussion. Other than that, Timothy appears fine." Then he faced McGee and continued. "I suggest ice chips for the throat, ice for the head and lots of rest for you. On second thought, maybe we ought to take you to the hospital."

"No can do, Duck. If Harris could get him here, no doubt he won't try to get him at the hospital. We need to move him somewhere else.

"How about my place, Gibbs?" Ziva spoke up, leaving Tim's side from examining Tim's head wound.

Gibbs looked at her hesitantly then nodded in agreement. "Okay, then. Lets get Tim downstairs and outta this place."

With much stumbling and groaning from a barely conscious Tim and some slight swearing from Tony; Tim, Gibbs, and Tony finally made their way downstairs and outside to the car. Ducky was behind them, followed by Ziva who watched their backs, gun trained to every inch of the dimly lit yard.

N * C * I * S

It wasn't until 30 minutes later that they secretly reached Ziva's apartment. Tim had fallen asleep-again- in the car, and it pained Gibbs that he was going to have to wake him up.

"Tim," whispered Gibbs, shaking Tim's shoulder. "We're here."

"Hmm?" mumbled McGee as he groggily opened his eyes.

"We're at Ziva's house. You can rest when we get inside and after you eat, okay?" Tony said as he opened the passenger door and climbed out. "Though it won't take long, we're gonna have to wait for Ziva to get here after dropping Ducky off at NCIS. Boy do I feel bad for him," chuckled Tony.

At this, Tim laughed for the first time in two days.

"Finally! A laugh from McQuiet!" smiled Tony.

Tim smiled back as he rolled his eyes, letting Tony help him from the car. Suddenly they heard a screech of tires and they saw Ziva getting out of the car.

"Did Ducky make it back in one piece?" Laughed Tony.

Ziva made a face at him as she pushed past Tony and made her way to the front door of her apartment.

"Of course he did, Tony, why wouldn't he?" Ziva asked innocently.

"Because- you know what? Never mind."

Ziva grinned as the team made their way inside the apartment. When the lights turned on, everything felt inviting and warm. Tim always loved Ziva's apartment; he felt safe.

"Can I sleep now?" whined Tim. He didn't mean to sound like a five year old, he was just extremely tired.

"Not until you've eaten something, Tim," said Gibbs heading to the kitchen and smirked as he heard Tim groan. After Ziva finished making the soup, they heard a soft knock on the door. Everyone looked at each other with worry in their eyes as they all took out guns. Gibbs slowly made his way to the door and looked through the peephole. He sighed but smiled when he saw he was looking into the bright green eye of Abby. He put away his gun and signaled to the rest of the team it was just Abby. He opened the door and she immediately cam bounding in.

"Gibbs, Gibbs! Where's Timmy? I want to see him!"

"Abby! Abs, calm down. I don't want you jumping all over him; he's tired and in pain."

"Oh, my poor Timmy!" Abby cried as she tore from Gibbs' grip.

"Abby!" Gibbs yelled after her.

"I know! Gentle." Abby ran to the living room and found Tim laying on the couch, barely awake.

"Abby? What are you doing here?" said Tim as he sat up.

"I had to come see if you were okay, Tim. Ducky told me what happened. Oh my god I can't believe that happened to you!" Abby rambled as she hugged Tim gently.

"I'm okay, Abs, don't worry. I'm just a little banged up," Tim smiled.

Abby let him go and kissed him on the forehead, "Just don't scare me like that again."

"Okay, Abby." laughed Tim.

"Time to eat!" Ziva called out as she and Tony finished setting the table. Everyone gathered around and sat down at the table. They were together once more, like old times. Everything was slowly going back to normal. Maybe nothing bad would happen and Harris decided to give up, but they all knew that wasn't true. They all knew it was a matter of time before Harris would would come back.

N * C * I * S

A couple hours later, after many stories and much laughter, Tim and everyone else was starting to get tired.

"Well, I guess it's time to hit the hay," said Tony as he stretched from the couch. "Boss, do you want me to bring Abby home?"

Gibbs and Tony looked over to the other occupied couch and found Tim fast asleep with Abby next to him, her head on his chest. Gibbs smiled as he walked over to Abby to wake her up.

"Abby. Abs, time to go, Tony's gonna bring you home," he whispered.

"O-okay, Gibbs," she said tiredly as she kissed Tim's forehead and got up from the couch, letting herself be led away by Tony.

"See you later, Boss," Tony whispered, careful not to wake Tim. Gibbs nodded and watched the two leave.

"Be careful, Tony, keep your senses aware."

"Of course, Boss." With that, the door shut and it was just Ziva, Gibbs and a slumbering Tim.

"You going to be okay by yourself, Ziva? If you want we can add another agent," Gibbs said as he pulled a blanket over Tim's shoulders.

"We'll be fine, Gibbs, don't worry. If Harris comes anywhere near McGee, I'll rip his head off," replied Ziva as she smiled reassuringly.

Gibbs smirked as he kissed Ziva on the head. "Call if you need anything."

Ziva nodded as she watched Gibbs walk out the door. When it shut, she locked it tightly, making sure no one could get in unless they called first. Quietly walking back towards Tim, she looked to see if he was comfortable. Smiling, she kissing Tim on the cheek and went over to the other couch. She wasn't going to sleep, since she needed to keep an eye on the door and on Tim, but that was what a bat nap was for; she had shown Tony that a while back. Closing her eyes, she drifted off, yet still aware of her surroundings.

N * C * I * S

Tim was starting to wake up, though he really didn't want to. He was still tired as hell, but he really wanted to see where he was. He last remembered being at Ziva's eating, but that didn't mean he stayed there. He was about to sit up and open his eyes when he felt a hand cover his mouth. Now he was scared. He opened his eyes wide open as he began to hyperventilate.

"Shh, Tim it's just me." The voice said as they put a finger to their mouth. _Oh phew it was only Ziva._

Tim's breathing eased as he relaxed, but something in Ziva's eyes said he shouldn't be so hopeful. She removed her hand and bent down closer to him and whispered.

"There's some one else in the house, Tim."

** Dun, Dun, Dunnnnnn! Another cliffhanger, sorry I had to! Thanks for sticking around with my story and I can't wait to get to the next one. I'll probably write a rough draft of the next chapter in school again lol. Reviews are welcome, thanks :)))**


	9. Valley of Death

**Chapter 9**

"You need to stay quiet. I'm going to go and check it out, alright?" whispered Ziva. "Here," she said, handing him a knife. "If anyone besides me comes back in here, you stab them."

Tim nodded quietly, taking the knife and watch Ziva head for the door.

"Be careful, Z," he whispered as she went to the front room entrance.

"I will, McGee, just worry about yourself, okay?" she said as she slunk out of the room, gun at the ready.

Tim waited anxiously on the couch, the knife trembling in his hand. What if Harris got in? What if he killed Ziva?

"Z-Ziva?" he called out, he voice shaking with worry and fear. No answer. Suddenly, he heard a loud crash, followed by what sounded like a body hitting the floor. Now he was terrified.

"Ziva?" Tim asked again louder as he slowly rose from the couch and making his way towards the sound. Walking stealthily down the hall and to the front, he saw what made his blood run cold. There he was; Wesley Harris in Ziva's apartment, his gun aiming at the head of his unmoving friend. Harris noticed the other presence in the room and turned to Tim, smiling that evil smile once again.

Changing the gun's position, he aimed it at Tim, ready to shoot him at any moment.

"Nice to see you again, McGee. I told you I'd be back," Harris growled.

"H-How did you get in here?" stuttered Tim.

"It doesn't matter, but if it makes you feel any better, I'll tell you. I'm a pro, McGee. I know everything. I never left the safe house, you know. I was there until you all decided to go to-" Harris paused, noticing the knife in Tim's hand. "Put that down or I'll blow her brains out!"

Tim obeyed, dropping the knife on the floor with a clatter.

"Good, now where was I? Oh, yes. I was there until you decided to go to this house. Your Boss, Agent Gibbs, is it? I know he saw me running off, but he didn't stay long enough at the window to see that I came back; with the window open, I could hear everything from the bottom steps of the ladder.

"How did you get here so fast? I mean we had a car, y-you had your-"

"Motorcycle. I stole it from the hospital parking lot."

Tim looked at Harris, horrified at what he was saying, as he waited for him to continue.

"I got here twenty minutes before you and I hid under the bed. When your little friend came out to look, I attacked her."

"No," whispered Tim in realization.

"Yes, and now it's time for you to die," said Harris as he lifted the gun, directing it at McGee's heart.

"Why?" whimpered Tim.

"Because it's my job, McGee."

Tim took one last glance at the crumpled and immobile form of Ziva.

"God, I really hope he didn't kill her," he prayed in thought as he closed his eyes, waiting for the end. He couldn't believe he was going to die like this. He heard the crack of the gun and the instant pain in his chest. It was the last this he felt before he let the darkness steal him away.

_5 Minutes earlier_

Ziva sneaked through her house looking for any possible threat. She swore she heard footsteps. How Harris could of gotten in, she did not know, but she was planning on ripping every limb off his body if he came near either her or McGee. Ziva flicked on the light and gasped as she saw she was face to face with Harris. Before she could do anything, he punched her in the face and she fell to the ground unconscious. Ziva figured she had blacked out, because she didn't remember when Tim had shown up. Oh no, Tim!

"Why?" Ziva heard Tim whimper.

"Because it's my job, McGee," replied Harris. She had to save Tim. Just before Harris discharged the gun, she jumped up plowed into him, hopefully making him miss his target.

"You Bitch!" screamed Harris. "I oughta-" then he stopped as he looked over at the motionless Tim. "Never mind, it seems that you made it worse."

Ziva looked up, still dazed and followed Harris' gaze to McGee.

"Oh no," she gasped, jumping up and running over to Tim. Putting two fingers to McGee's neck, she gasped.

"You-you killed him!" Ziva cried, lifting McGee into her lap. She usually didn't show her feelings, but Tim was her friend and now he was gone.

"Then my work here is done," grinned Harris as he took a bow. "I'll leave you to grieve in peace." He opened the door and disappeared once again.

N ***** C ***** I ***** S *****

Ziva watched as Harris left. When she heard the footsteps fade and the roar of a motorcycle take off, she pulled out her phone, frantically calling Gibbs.

"Gibbs! Get over here now! Harris found Tim again and this time he got shot!"

A heartbeat pause and then finally Gibbs spoke up. "I'm on my way. How bad is it?"

"It's not- it's not good Gibbs. Harris got him in the chest and he's losing a lot of blood. He's alive, but it looks like the bullet hit a lung. I had to lie to Harris that Tim was dead, or else he would never of left."

"That's good work, Ziva. Just put pressure on his wound and I'll be there soon with Tony."

"Okay," said Ziva, hanging up and immediately calling 911. "Hello? Yes I need an ambulance right now! My friend has been shot!" She glanced at Tim, his face was drained of all color and his breaths were coming out as short wheezes. "Hurry, please! I'm at 1151 Merchant Street in Silver Springs. Please hurry, he's losing a lot of blood and I think his lung was punctured!" She waited for the response of the operator and when they said they were sending an ambulance now, she thanked them and hung up the phone, throwing it on the ground, immediately using both hands to apply force onto Tim's bullet wound. Suddenly, she heard a groan of pain and Ziva moved her focus onto Tim's blood sprayed face. His eyes, glassy and out of focus, opened slowly and looked at her with pain in fear in his eyes.

"It's okay, Tim, you are going to be alright."

"Z-Zi..." coughed Tim in a wet and throaty voice as he was having a hard time breathing.

Ziva put more pressure on the injury when she noticed the blood trickling out from Tim's mouth and down his chin.

"Come on, Tim! Stay with me, stay awake!" Ziva said when she caught Tim's eyes drooping shut. "Gibbs will be here-"

"Right now," said Gibbs as he barged into the room with Tony right behind him.

"Oh god!" shouted Tony, his voice cracking with sadness as he took in his probie's condition. Tim's face was drained of blood and with his lips a disturbing white, it only made his appearance more grim. The blood coming from his mouth increased, staining his teeth and making them appear an odd pink color. What really made everyone cringe was the gurgled breathing coming from Tim's throat. If the ambulance didn't hurry, McGee was going to drown in his own blood.

Gibbs knelt down next to his struggling agent and began to speak.

"Listen to me, Tim! Are you listening?" he waiting until Tim slowly brought his eyes of to him, locking green with blue.

"You. Will. Not. Die. Got it?" I don't give you permission to, I never will!" Gibbs placed a hand on Tim's face, only then noticing that his hand was covered it was covered in blood. Tim's blood. Tim looked at Gibbs, no expression on his face.

"You think I'm joking? I'm not, I promise you, you will not die!"

"O-okay- okay, B-b'ss," Tim slurred, but his eyes closed and he stopping struggling to breath. His body went limp and everything was quiet.

"Tim? Tim! McGee, wake up dammit!" Gibbs yelled as he quickly went to feel for a pulse. He pressed so hard, he was positive he'd leave a bruise. He let out a sigh; there was a weak one, but it was fading...fast.

"Come on, Probie, don't die on me!" Tony cried, tears trailing down his face.

"Tony start the compressions! Ziva keep pressure on that, and I'll do the breaths. Gibbs tilted Tim's head back as he waited for Tony to start compressions, ready to give air into Tim's unresponsive lungs.

Thirty compressions.

Two breaths.

Thirty compressions.

Two breaths.

"Come on, Tim, come on!" yelled Tony. By now, Tim's sleeves, hands and fingers were soaked with blood as it pooled around all four of them. He was losing too much.

Gibbs continued the breaths in Tim's mouth even though he was aware he was getting blood into his own mouth. It's metallic taste hardly fazing him as he tried to revive his agent. Finally, the paramedics showed up at Ziva's door, immediately rushing in and assessing Tim's condition and trying to get him stable. The team stood back and watched as the EMT's placed a tube down Tim's throat, putting on a neck brace, applying pressure bandages and hooking Tim up to oxygen. Once they finished and strapped McGee securely onto a stretcher, they rushed out of the room to quickly get to the waiting gurney downstairs.

"Where are you taking him?" questioned Gibbs numbly.

"Bethesda, sir!"

Gibbs nodded as he, Tony, and Ziva watched the EMT's disappear down the stairs. Gibbs turned and sighed, stopping himself from wiping his blood smothered hand on his face.

"How did this happen, Ziva?" he asked as the team went back into the apartment. He had to get the taste of blood out of his mouth. It was making him sick. He passed Tony who was stark white and trembling with shock. Blood caked his sleeves, knees and his hands; it was so much blood. Too much.

"Hey, Tony, you okay?" Gibbs asked, placing a hand on Tony's shoulder.

"He- Why can't he just catch a break, Boss?" Tony said, not taking his eyes off the crimson blood on the floor. He wiped the leftover tears off his face, not caring that he got blood on it.

"I don't know, Tony, but we _will_ catch this son of a bitch."

"When we do, I want to interrogate him," Tony growled.

"Along with me, Gibbs," whispered Ziva who had blood all over her clothes and hands as well.

"Of course, Ziva. All of us-including Abby and Ducky- will be in interrogation and when we're finished with him, he's gonna never wish a hit was put on Tim." Gibbs looked at Ziva and Tony sadly and continued. "Come on lets get cleaned up so we can go to the hospital."

The two agents nodded and headed towards the bathroom. Gibbs stopped Ziva suddenly, grabbing her gently by the wrist.

"Are you, okay? How did Harris get to you guys?"

"I-I'm so sorry, Gibbs, I tried to save him. Somehow Harris got in and he attacked me, knocking me out. I came to just in time to disrupt Harris' aim. He was aiming for Tim's heart, Gibbs." Then the damn broke. She could no longer hold in the tears; her emotions.

"Come here," coaxed Gibbs as he brought a sobbing Ziva into a hug. Tony watched sadly at the embrace. _His heart. He aimed at Tim's heart! Probie could be dead right now!_

"Come here, Tony," he heard Gibbs' voice cut through his thoughts. Tony slowly walked over to the two and they embraced in a group hug. Both Tony and Ziva were instantly brought back to the group hug in the elevator, along with Abby and...McGee, after Mike Frank's had died.

"Tim will make it through this. We all will get through this," whispered Gibbs.

After getting cleaned up, the team drove to Bethesda in silence, all lost in their own thoughts. Gibbs had called Ducky, who probably had to tell Abby (after the director) and no doubt that they would both show up in a matter of minutes. When they reached the hospital, the team rushed inside the waiting room, Gibbs immediately going over to the nurse's station.

"Timothy McGee. What's his status, he just came in about ten minutes ago."

The nurse nodded and began typing, looking at the illuminated screen.

"He's still in surgery, sir. A doctor will be out shortly to talk to you."

"Thanks," nodded Gibbs as he went back to where the team was sitting. Suddenly the doors burst open and revealing Abby and Ducky, Abby rushing over and bawling her eyes out.

"Gibbs, please tell me it's not true! Please tell me Timmy didn't get shot! Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god! Gibbs tell me now!" she cried, mascara dripping down her pale and tear streaked face, looking into Gibbs' eyes.

"He's in surgery right now, Abs. We're just gonna have to wait; go and sit down with Tony and Ziva and I'll be right there."

Abby nodded and she walked over to the plastic chairs next to Ziva and Tony. Gibbs watched as Abby gave both of the agents a tight hug as Ducky took Abby's spot in front of Gibbs.

"What happened, Jethro?" Eager to here the details now that an emotional Abby wasn't around to hear.

"Harris shot Tim, Duck. It's...it's really bad. His lung was punctured and he lost a lot of blood."

"Timothy is tough, Jethro, he'll make it through this; and I'm pretty sure you ordered him to live and I know Timothy is not one to disobey a direct order. Gibbs smirked and nodded in agreement as he and Ducky joined the group. It seemed like hours before they got any news. Everyone was getting impatient, worried. Did something go wrong? Did Tim die on the table? No new for this long was good, right? Before they could answer their own thoughts, the double doors to surgery opened, revealing a 30ish year old doctor in green scrubs, covered in blood. Abby gasped as tears began to well up in her eyes again.

"Family of Timothy McGee?"

** Well that took a long time. I've been typing this chapter 6 hours straight(minus eating dinner for twenty minutes and watching NCIS!) But at least I did the rough draft in school...again lol :)) Next chapter to come soon! Thanks for reading and don't forget the reviews! :))**


	10. He's Okay, For Now

**Chapter 10**

**So sorry for the lonnnng wait. Stupid homework made my behind on typing up my chapter. Luckily I've been using school time again to write the rough chapter. Thanks for the ah-mazing reviews! Here's the next chapter :)**

"Family of Timothy McGee?" said the doctor, looking up from his clipboard and at the approaching group.

"Yeah, that's us," spoke Gibbs.

The doctor looked at them suspiciously, but decided not to say anything when he caught the menacing 'don't-lecture-us-with-the-family-crap-just get-to-the-point' glare from the gray haired gentleman.

"Okay, well, my name is Dr. Philip Hale and I was attending Mr. McGee's-"

"Tim," said Tony bluntly

"Or Agent McGee," added Gibbs.

The doctor blinked at them then restarted differently.

"Okay then. _Tim_ is currently in the ICU after receiving a gunshot wound to his chest, which perforated his lung. We managed to repair it, but we have him on a ventilator until he can breathe better on his own. He also lost a lot of blood, so we had to transfuse him three pints of it back. Then there are the less severe injuries such as a minor concussion and slightly damaged pharynx." He stopped, letting the team take in the news.

"I-Is he...is he going to be okay?" Sniffed Abby.

Dr. Hale looked at her and the team sadly. "It's a touch and go at this point. We had to shock him twice on the table, but we got him back. It is going to be a long recovery process."

"You did not answer her question," snapped Ziva.

The doctor sighed. He was used to this happening, his patient's family being upset, and worried, and mostly impatient, so he quickly got to the point.

"Barring any complications-"

"Complications?" Gibbs asked, concerned.

"Infections, breathing, nothing major, though. If it would be anything, it would most likely be infection, but nothing has come across at this point. But, other than that, he should be fine."

The team let out a small sigh of relief. Tim was going to live. His condition wasn't all that great, but he was going to make it. Now all they had to worry about was Harris. He probably didn't know Tim was alive, but it would be long before he found out.

"Can we see him?" asked Tony quietly.

"He's heavily sedated for right now, but you can go in for five minutes, then he needs to recover for 24 hours in ICU. After that we'll be able to move him to a private room, then you'll be able to see him longer."

Everyone nodded as the doctor gestured them to follow him to Tim's room. Once again, they were all lost in their own thoughts. _What if he slips into a coma? What if he stops breathing again? How is he gonna come back from all this? How will they all come back from this?_

"Now I must warn you. The machines can be a little intimidating, but they are helping Tim. It looks worse than it is, so don't be worried," said the doctor as he stopped at the glass windows. The team looked inside and gasped. They knew the doctor warned them, but this? It was too much. Too much wires, too much tubes, too much machines. Those things engulfed the person in the bed, making him appear more shrunken.

"Like I said, it'll be a long recovery, but I'm positive that he'll make it. Once we move him to the private room, we'll remove the ventilator and he'll just need an oxygen mask from time to time."

Gibbs nodded for the shell shocker team then thanked the doctor. He opened the door and everyone filed in slowly, scared that if they made one wrong move, they'd break the fragile body. Abby, being the more curious one, quietly walked over to the bed and grabbed a nearby chair. She dragged it closer to Tim's head and carefully took his ice cold hand in hers.

"P-please get better, Timmy. I'll be so mad at you if you don't,"Abby sniffed.

Tony decided to go over next, sitting opposite of Abby. He needed to be assured that his Probie was really okay, that he was really alive. Resting his hand on McGee's arm he sighed.

"You better listen to her, Probie. You know how she doesn't liked to be ignored. Just get better and you let us deal with Harris. We'll catch the bastard.

Gibbs smiled at his agent's protection over his "little brother." They were a family; a dysfunctional one, yes, but they were one, and no one hurts their family. Gibbs and Ducky went over next, sadly looking at their fallen friend.

"Like Tony said, Tim, we'll catch Harris. Don't you worry, just focus on getting better, because you don't have permission not to."

Tony smiled sadly, then noticed Ziva wasn't with the group. He searched the room and found her standing in the door, just watching them. He got up from the chair and made his way over to her.

"Why aren't you going over to him, Z?"

"I-I don't want to hurt him any more than he is. It's my fault that he got shot. I should have been watching him better; he probably blames me."

Tony sighed and brought her out of the room. "You don't know that, and you know Probie's never one to hold a grudge. Anyways, you can't blame yourself and you can't second guess yourself, either. You know it's not your fault, it's just one of those things that happens; so you can spend the rest of your life thinking of what what you should of done or you can go in there and promise Tim that we're gonna catch the son of a bitch."

Ziva looked at him with misty eyes. _He was right._ She hated when he was right. Ziva nodded and turned back to go inside. Tony grinned at his accomplishment as he followed her. Ziva quietly went over and took Tony's vacant chair, placing a hand on Tim's face.

"Please get better, McGee. I couldn't live with myself if you didn't. You know we'll get Harris if it's the last thing we do." She whispered something in Hebrew then leaned in to kiss his cheek. Suddenly the heard a soft knock on the door.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but time's up," said Dr. Hale. "We'll have someone inform you when we're ready to move him to a different room."

Everyone bid there farewells and then left the room. It was agreed that they all needed to rest, shower and eat. That would do Tim better than waiting all night and then passing out from exhaustion and lack of nutrition before they got to him. After he called NCIS and requested two agents to guard Tim, he turned towards his team.

"Meet back here in the morning once you've given your statements."

Everyone nodded and left the hospital to go home. Suddenly, Ziva stopped Gibbs, like he did with her earlier.

"Gibbs, can I- can I stay at your house tonight? I don't want to go back to my place, Tim's- his blood is-"

"I know. Of course you can," he replied.

N C I S

The 24 hours went by in a blur. After eating, sleeping, showering and giving statements, the team met back in the depressing waiting room once again. They sat quietly, none of them wanting to break the silence, but obviously a nurse didn't get the memo, because the next thing they knew, a voice sliced through the awkward muteness.

"Anyone here for Timothy McGee?"

The team eagerly stood up and went over to the nurse.

"Can we see him now?" Abby asked instantly.

"Of course, follow me. So he's resting right now, because we sedated him some more, but when he does wake up, try not to stress him out. His throat is going to be scratchy and sore for a while from the tube, and he's going to be a bit groggy." They reached the small room and the nurse let them go inside. The team stood in silence, watching their youngest teammate's chest rise and fall steadily. He was still small and very pale, which unfortunately made the dark circle underneath his eyes become more vivid. The only unsettling thing was that his breathing was uneven and his forehead was creased in confusion, fear, and pain.

"At least he has the godforsaken tube out," whispered Tony.

"If he wakes up or something happens, press the call button," said the nurse. He stepped out of the room and shut the door, leaving the team standing at the foot of Tim's bed. This time it was Ziva who walked over to Tim's side. She still felt a pang of guilt towards what happened to her friend, even though Tony had told her otherwise. Abby walked over and sat on the side of the bed, tracing Tim's fringe gently and slowly Tim's face relaxed and his breathing evened out. He was finally at ease. Tony went on the other side of McGee and placed a comforting hand on his. Ducky and Gibbs stood rooted to the spot at the end of Tim's bed, but they gently squeezed his leg, letting him know that they were there for him.

Now that they knew Tim was okay, they had another topic to focus on, but each individual had a different way of putting it:

Gibbs- Finding Wesley Harris

Ziva- Killing Harris

Tony- Destroying the son of a bitch

Abby- Poisoning the bastard who hurt Timmy

Ducky- Dismembering Timothy's attacker.

After thinking of ways to make Harris suffer, they also had to figure out who, exactly, put the hit out on Tim in the first place. Finally Gibbs spoke up.

"Tony, I want you and Ziva here, and I'll add two more agents as well; Abby and Ducky, I need you back with me. We're gonna hunt down the bastard, until the end of time if we have to!"

"I couldn't agree with you more, Jethro," said Ducky.

"Well what are you guys waiting for? Lets go!" said Abby impatiently.

They were gonna find the bastard and more importantly the bastard who ordered the hit, no matter what it took.

** Thanks for the reviews and I hope you liked this chapter :) Also thanks to Gottahavemyncis for the idea of having a person order the hit. I never thought about putting that in until that idea was given. Thanks! Next Chapter will be from Harris' POV and you'll get to find out who ordered the hit! Chapter will come soon since it will be somewhat short :)**


	11. In the Doghouse Now

**Chapter 11**

He walked up to the doors of the abandoned warehouse, now know as his Boss' hideout, and he knocked on the door. Lewis Sweeney, the Boss' goon, opened the door slowly, making sure he wasn't an enemy, or worse a cop. He smiled charmingly when Lewis looked at him calmly

"Mr. Harris, it's you. Good thing, the Boss had been wanting to see you. He's not happy," sneered Lewis.

Harris' smile fell fast. What could the Boss possibly be mad about? He did his job, he killed that bastard agent; why would he be upset?

"Why?" he asked nervously.

Lewis shrugged. Harris uneasily went up to the Boss' door and knocked.

"Come in," he heard a gruff voice call out.

Harris opened the door slowly, looking in to see where his Boss was in the room. He was sitting in his chair, facing away from him. Harris shut the door and waited in awkward silence. Finally he decided to say something, since he was not one to be patient.

"Weeny said you've been waiting for me?"

Silence. Then...

"I thought I hired a professional, Wesley."

Harris was befuddled, looking into the back of the chair that his Boss' sat in. How could he doubt that he hired a pro?

"Y-you did," he stuttered.

"Then why, is it, that it took you this long to kill Mr. McGee?"

"I-I was injured, I-"

"And worst of all-" the Boss, swiveled his chair to face Harris. "He's not even dead!"

"What do you mean? I shot him right in the chest!" shouted Harris, clearly shocked about what was being said.

"That doesn't necessarily kill someone, Harris," snapped the man.

"His friend- she said... she said that he was dead! She was-"

"Acting, genius. Ever hear of it?"

Now he felt so stupid; humiliated.

"If you were such a _pro_ then maybe you would of checked for yourself that he was really dead."

"How did you find out that he was still alive?"

"One of my men. He doesn't come here, but I have him check up on you from time to time, seeing if you are really doing what was asked of you."

"I've been trying! It's those stupid friends of his! They keep getting in the way."

"Then _kill_ them," growled the Boss.

Harris was speechless. "Then-then how did he live?"

"You hit his lung. He was rushed to the hospital just. in. time.:

"Which one?"

"Bethesda. Now...I'm giving you one last chance to kill him. 24 hours. If you don't-" the Boss cocked his gun and shot it inches above Harris' head making him flinch. "Now don't screw it up!"

Harris nodded, starting to leave the room.

"Of course, Mr Rinnert. You will not be disappointed this time."

**Fred Rinnert! Where did he come from? OMG I hate this guy, and I'm pretty sure he hated McGee. That is why I made him the one to order the hit :) Hope you liked it, sorry it was so short. Next chapter to come soon! Reviews much appreciated :)**


	12. The Awakening

**Chapter 12**

** I apologize for my hiatus, I just couldn't think of anything to write and when to write it. I've just been so busy lately. But anyways, here is the next chapter :) R&R thanks!**

No change.

No change.

No change.

No change.

That was all Ziva could hear in her head, from the doctor's mouth, and from Tony's eyes. The disappointment. Every time he would leave the room to "get something," he hope that when he got back, his buddy would be awake; smiling his usual smile, but he was wrong. Ziva sat by Tim's bedside, stroking his head, willing him to wake up, to say something and assure her that he is okay.

"Come on, Tim, please wake up," she whispered. Nothing. Ziva groaned in frustration, as she stood up and paced the room. Why couldn't he just wake up? She knew he needed the rest, but if she could just see him awake and see that he is 100- well close to 100%- okay, then she would feel more relaxed. Suddenly she heard a soft groan come from behind her. Whipping around, hoping that Tim's eyes would be open, but instead found his eyes squeezed shut, while his face was scrunched up in pain and confusion. Ziva rushed over and sat back down, attempting to calm him down, to tell him that he was safe.

"Z-Ziv-Ziva," Tim moaned.

"Tim? Tim, can you hear me?" shouted Ziva. But was no use; he was trapped in a nightmare.

"I-I'm so sorry, Ziva. I let him k-kill you. I shouldn't have brought any of you into this; it my f-fault. I didn't want him to...you're dead Ziva. It's my fault, it's always my fault!" Tears began to fall down both Tim's and Ziva's face. _He thought she was dead._

"I'm not dead, Tim, I'm right here. You're gonna be safe; you're okay, now, alright?" She placed a hand on Tim's cheek as she kept coaxing him and encouraging him to wake up. But it didn't help. Tim's breathing became erratic as short raspy breaths escaped his mouth. Nothing was working and McGee was going to stress himself out if he didn't relax.

"P-please don't!" Tim whimpered. "Why are you d-doing this? Don't kill me, please!"

"Ziva! Why are you torturing Tim?" said Tony jokingly as he strolled in with two cups of coffee. But one look from Ziva and his face fell, dropping the coffee onto the pristine floor and instantly appearing by Ziva's side.

"What's wrong? Tony said panicking.

"I-I think he's reliving what happened earlier," said Ziva worriedly.

The two tried desperately to wake up their friend from his nightmare, but it wasn't working. As much as he didn't want to, Tony reluctantly pressed the call button. As they waited impatiently for the doctors to come, Ziva resumed stroking Tim's hair and Tony held his hand tightly, letting him know that he was not alone. Finally the nurses and doctors rushed in frantically, pushing the two agents out of the way and assessing Tim's vitals.

"You two!" said Dr. Hale pointing to them. "What happened?"

"I-I don't know," said Tony sadly. "Ziva said he was having a nightmare, but now that I look at him it looks much worse."

The doctor nodded as he watched the nurses sedated the struggling patient. Finally, Tim's cries ceased and his breathing evened out as he fell back into a medicated sleep.

"It seems that the gunshot wound developed an infection. We're going to have to ask you to leave the room for a while until we get him settled," Dr. Hale said, ushering Ziva and Tony out of the room.

"We can't leave him alone in there! He's being targeted by a hit man and we have to protect him!" shouted Ziva angrily, Tony looking just as pissed.

The doctor looked at the two sadly. He knew he shouldn't have people from the outside go into a sterile room with a patient that has an infection, but these two were making a point.

"Okay, fine, but you need to wear gloves and a mask. We can't risk the infection getting worse or him getting sicker since he has a weak immune system."

Tony and Ziva sighed happily. They were getting ready to go back into the room when the doctor stopped them.

"You need to wait for just a minute so we can get Tim on antibiotics, _then_ you can go in," smiled Dr. Hale as he turned into the room and shut the door. Tony shook his head in disbelief as Ziva burned angry eyes through the door. Tony sighed and looked at Ziva. She'd been at the hospital for three days without a break, and she looked like hell. Her hair was wild and messy while her eyes had dark circles underneath them.

"Z, why don't you go home. Get some sleep and eat something; I'll watch over McGeek."

"But the last time it was just one person Tim got..." Ziva said before she trailed off.

"Don't worry about it, Ziva its two people this time. We got Agent Macabren and me and even all the doctors and nurses, _plus_ the hospital security. Tim's safer than ever before, okay?"

Ziva looked at Tony hesitantly, the nodded. She was really tired and she hadn't eaten anything for a while. She guessed it would be okay to leave just a little bit.

"Okay, fine. But I'm probably going to stay with Gibbs for a while. I don't have the strength to clean up...well, you know."

"Okay, well as long as you rest up," replied Tony as he squeezed her shoulder then pulled her into hug. "Don't worry, Ziva, he'll be okay."

"I know," she whispered as she broke the embrace. "Call me if anything happens, okay?"

"I will." With that Ziva turned and left the hospital. Tony sighed and waited impatiently for the doctor to let him go back in. After five long excruciating minutes, Dr. Hale came back out, giving him gloves and a mask before letting him go into the room. Tony put on the gloves and mask and closed the door behind him. He watched his best friend as his forehead creased and his hand clenching and releasing the blankets underneath him. He was in pain; weren't those asshole doctors supposed to give him something for that?

Tony walked over quietly and sat down next to Tim. He took the limp hand, wishing he could feel the skin, but the rubbery glove was preventing it from happening.

"It's gonna be okay, buddy," Tony whispered as he squeezed McGee's hand. "Gibbs is going to catch Harris. He won't be able to hurt you anymore." He looked at Tim sadly; he couldn't believe his friend had to deal with this shit. Who would want to kill him anyways? He was so kind and caring to everyone; this whole thing was just wrong.

Suddenly, Tim groaned weakly, his hand squeezing Tony's this time.

"Tim?" said Tony anxiously. He hoped Tim was actually waking up instead of having another nightmare. Instead, to his happiness, Tim's eye's began to flutter open.

"Probie?"

Finally he could see the glazed over green eyes looking at him with confusion and fear. He coughed violently and he squeezed his eyes shut again. When he reopened them, they were more focused.

"T-Tony?" Tim rasped. "Where-"

"You're at the hospital, Tim. Do you remember what happened?" said Tony, his voice muffled by the mask.

"I-I remember-" but then he stopped and began panicking when he saw what Tony was wearing. "Am-am I really that sick?"

"Calm down, Probie. I just have to wear it so I don't get you sick. You developed an slight infection and your immune system is weak, so..."

"Oh, okay." replied Tim. "Well, I remember everything up to when Harris was pointing a gun at me and Ziva was...Oh, god! Ziva, she's- she's dead isn't she?" Tim cried as tears began to form. "It's all m fault, I should of went out to check with her!"

"McGee! Tim! Calm down, she not dead. Ziva's not dead, okay?"

"What?" sniffed McGee, confused.

"She's not dead, he just knocked her out, that's it."

"A-are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. She just left twenty minutes ago for Gibbs' place. She needed a break."

Tim breathed a sigh of relief when he heard this. Ziva was okay, she wasn't dead.

"Good," yawned McGee.

"Go back to sleep, Tim."

"Okay- wait... did you find Harris yet?"

"No, but we will, buddy," said Tony sadly. McGee nodded silently as he looked down at his hands, his eyes slowly drooping.

"Get some sleep, Tim. I'll be here when you wake up alright?"

"Mhmm," McGee said tiredly as he slumped back into the pillows and closed his eyes.

"Good night, Probie."

"N'ght, T'ny."

Tony smiled as he pat McGee arm. _Tim was going to be fine. there was nothing to worry about, right?_ Tony hoped he was right, he wasn't sure how much more Tim could take.

**Sorry, this one was kinda short, boring and unactiony. Better chapters will be coming soon, but I'm going to be with my mom for the weekend again, and you know what that means: NO INTERNET :(((((( So I write rough drafts and then type them up so when Wednesday comes I'll be ready to upload them as soon as I get to my dads :)) Thanks for reading, and don't forget the reviews :) **


	13. Poisoned

**Chapter 13**

** Hi again! I hope you all had a good Thanksgiving! Here the next chapter :) and good thing I'm with my dad for the weekend again! YAAAY! This chapter and the next chapter are gonna be good ones! :)**

"Whaddya got, Abbs?" asked Gibbs strolling into the lab.

"Still nothing, Gibbs. This guy is good."

It had been three hours since they left the hospital, and they couldn't find anything on Harris or the guy who hired him.

"I've taken the pictures from the crime scene and ran them through facial recognition," said Abby. "All I got was his last known address and his phone; nothing about his current career."

"That's at least something, Abby. Is his phone on?"

"No, but I'll keep on eye on it in case it does."

"That's good work, Abby," Gibbs said as he kissed her on the cheek. As he began to walk out the door, he heard the familiar beeping sound and Abby frantically calling him back.

"What is it, Abbs? Did his phone turn back on?"

"No, but I took the liberty of sending out a BOLO and it just came back. A nurse at Bethesda just saw him. She said he has a gun, Gibbs!"

"Don't worry, we're gonna get him this time!" yelled Gibbs as he ran out the door. Then he poked his head back in, looking at the goth.

"Tim's going to be okay, Abby."

Abby nodded sadly as Gibbs left the room once again. He jumped into the elevator and called Ziva- who had returned to the hospital an hour earlier.

"Ziva where are you right now?...Harris is at the hospital and he has a gun. Where's Tony?" He heard Ziva gasp as the sound of faint footfalls were heard over the phone.

"I'll be right over, just get to Tim!" Gibbs yelled as he hung up and slammed on the gas, not caring if he ruined the tires of the agency car. This was his agent he was talking about, not to mention Tony was now in the mix. This week was just getting worse and worse.

~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~

Ziva bolted to McGee's room, her gun by her side and ready to kill. Rounding the corner she ran down another hallway, passing a nurse who was pale and crying. _Harris was obviously here._ But Ziva didn't stop, she had no time. Finally, she skidded to a stop when she saw Agent Macabren on the ground, a single bullet hole to his head. His blue eyes were foggy and unseeing. _Dammit! She was too late!_ Stepping over him, her gun pointed into the room, she flicked on the light and anger instantly washed over her. The sight she saw was heartbreaking, but she didn't have time to stand around. Running to Tim, trying to ignore the labored wheezing coming from his mouth, she slapped the call button and began to wait impatiently for help. _What the hell happened?_ Tim's breathing was slow and shallow, and not to mention the sickening blue tinge to his skin, more so his lips and fingers. It made Ziva want to punch the wall. Tony was on the floor groaning in pain as he grasped at the bullet hole in his thigh.

"Tony are you alright?" yelled Ziva.

"Y-yeah, I-I'm fine. Just worry about McGee right now."

Ziva nodded as she looked down at the gasping Tim and grabbed his cold, clammy hand. _Where the hell where the doctors?_

**15 Minutes Earlier**

He stormed into the hospital, pissed. He couldn't believe Rinnert had someone spying on him. Him! Well, this time he would give the spy something to tell his Boss. _Timothy McGee is dead. Harris finally killed him._ Walking up to the nurse's desk, he cleared his throat and she looked up at him calmly.

"May I help you?"

"Timothy McGee. What's his room number?" growled Harris.

"I'm sorry, I'm not allowed to divulge that information."

Harris was getting impatient. He was done being Mr. Nice Guy. He pulled his gun and aimed for her head. The nurse's eyes grew wide as all the color in her face instantly drained.

"I'm going to ask you again. Where is Timothy McGee?"

"U-umm, r-room 318," she stuttered.

"Thank you," he said. Then he noticed the nurse was reaching for the phone.

"You can call whoever you want, but it will be too late." He grinned evilly and made his was to his target. If he had to kill every man, women, and child to get to McGee, so be it. _Nothing_ was going to stop him this time. Turning the corner slowly, he saw a doctor leave room 318 with an agent shutting the door after him. Harris smiled as a plan formed in his head. Hiding the gun away and finding a stray lab coat, he put it on and began to follow the doctor. He passed a medicine cart and grabbed two syringes that said _codeine_ on them, then quickening his pace as the doctor disappeared into the lounge. Stepping inside silently, he locked the door and drew his gun and silenced it. The doctor turned around and frowned.

"Who are you? What are you doing he-" but before he could finish, Harris pulled the trigger and watched as the doctor fell to the ground, blood flowing from his neck wound. Walking over, Harris unpinned the name tag and put it on "his" lab coat.

"Don't worry about Mr. McGee. I'll take care of him from now on." Harris patted the dying doctor's cheek and left him, shutting the door and making his way back to Tim's room. He found a random clipboard and grabbed it as he stored away the two syringes into his pocket. _So far so good. _He made it back to McGee's room, pulling his gun and instantly shooting the guarding agent in the head; not even giving him the chance to reach for his own gun. Luckily his gun was silenced and that there was no one else in the hallway; he didn't need to give warning to the people inside the room.

After moving the dead agent away from view, when opening the door, he put away his gun and went inside. He watched as the other agent sat up in his chair, eying him suspiciously.

"Sorry to disturb the both of you, but I'm just going to give Agent McGee some more antibiotics."

"Didn't you just give him some a moment ago?" questioned Tony, getting more and more suspicious.

"He's getting a bit worse, so he needs a little extra," Harris smiled forcefully. He took out the syringes and injected McGee's I.V. with the medicine. _Finally. His job was done._

"Uh...Isn't that a little too much?" asked Tony rising from his seat.

"Shut up!" Harris growled as he took out his gun and shot the man in the leg. The agent grunted as he hit the floor, hissing in pain. Smiling, Harris ran out of the room, just minutes before Ziva came running into the room. Mr. Rinnert was going to be so happy. Best of all he wasn't going to get killed for not doing his job, because well, he did his job. He was almost there. He killed three people in a highly populated area without being noticed. He was going to get...

Suddenly, the gray haired man he remembered as Gibbs, burst through the entrance doors, his gun aimed for his head.

...away. _Shit._

"Nice to see you again, Agent Gibbs. What brings you to the hospital on this fine and uneventful evening?"

"Shut the _hell_ up, Harris," growled Gibbs.

"Ooh, not very nice, are we?"

"What did you do to my agent?"

"Me? Why would I- hey! That hurt!" Harris cried as he grabbed his bleeding nose after Gibbs had punched him. Gibbs smacked the gun from Harris' grip. Grabbing both Harris' arms, he brought them behind his back.

"Ah! What-"

"What. The. Hell. Did. You do. To. My. Agent?" said Gibbs, each forced word caused him to tighten his grip on the bastard.

"It doesn't matter now, Gibbs. You're too late."

"You disgust me," said Gibbs angrily as he handcuffed Harris and shoved him into the hands of the local LEO's. He'd deal with him later in interrogation; right now he had to find his team. He dashed down the hallway and to his agent's room. _Was he too late?_ He got to the doorway, angered at the sight of the dead body of Agent Macabren, but temporarily ignored it as he went inside the chaotic room. Sounds of running feet an shouting voices and parts of phrases he didn't understand.

_Dilated Pupils..._

_ Looks like..._

_Overdose...codeine_

_ Weak pulse...low BP..._

_ Not breathing..._

_ Inject...narcan..._

_ Gastric lavage..._

_ Nasal Cavity..._

_ Go! Go! Go!_

His agent was quickly wheeled out, leaving the room empty and quiet. He suddenly saw Ziva on the ground with Tony who was looking pale and in shock. His blood was spilling slowly onto the floor, even though both Ziva and Tony were putting pressure onto the wound.

"Are you okay?" Gibbs asked as he made his way over to them.

"Y-yeah, B-Boss. It's not s-serious, just a t-through and through f-flesh wound. I-I'll be fine," replied Tony breathlessly.

"Another doctor will be here shortly to help him," continued Ziva.

"What happened, Tony?"

"It's-It's my fault. My fault. I should have trusted my gut, Boss. I knew something wasn't right when the so called "doctor" came back in. Stupid!"

"Someone once told me that Tim does not hold grudges and that you can not second guess yourself. They also told me that you can spend the rest of your life thinking about what you should have done, or you can help catch the son of a bitch," said Ziva softly but avoiding contact.

"Who said- who said that?" asked Tony.

"You," smiled Ziva as a couple doctors wheeled in a gurney and helped Tony get onto it.

"There's only one problem with your statement," said Gibbs.

"What do you mean?" asked Tony as he laid out on the gurney.

"We got him. He's being brought to NCIS custody as we speak."

Tony and Ziva let out a relieved sigh in unison. That was probably the best news they heard all week.

"Thank god," smiled Tony. "Don't interrogate him without me!" he yelled as he was being wheeled down the hallways. Gibbs smiled slightly then turned to Ziva.

"Why don't you go wash up, Z. I'll be right here, since it's probably going to be awhile before we get any news on Tim."

Ziva nodded and headed for the bathroom. Gibbs sighed as he rubbed a hand across his face and sat down outside Tim's, now, vacant room. He should be happy, relieved. But why didn't he? They caught Harris, Tim's going to be okay-_ he hoped_- and now, since they had Harris, it would open up a whole new doorway to answers. But he still felt uncertain. Was it because Tim might die this time? Or maybe because Harris might have told his Boss that he'd killed Tim and the Boss had felt his need to leave without a trace. He hoped his gut was telling him otherwise. He just hoped, for once, that his gut was wrong.


	14. Capture

**Chapter 14**

Gibbs strode angrily down the hallway towards interrogation; Ziva right behind him, followed by Tony who was limping on crutches. Harris had injected Tim with 6ml of codeine. If Ziva hadn't gotten there in time, Tim would be dead. He also shot Tony and he hadn't even done anything. He was just..._there._ No one, and he meant no one, was to hurt his family. Gibbs barged into the room, slamming his hand on the table as he sat down. Tony and Ziva stood in the corner, staring daggers at the second occupant of the room.

"I've been beginning to think you wouldn't come, Agent Gibbs. What took you so long? Had to make funeral arrangements?" Grinned Harris.

That was all it took for Tony to snap. He threw his crutches on the ground, ignored the pain in his leg and went at Harris, grabbing his collar tightly.

"Shut the _fuck_ up!" he yelled angrily.

"Tony! Tony, stand down! Let me handle this!" shouted Gibbs as he gently pulled Tony back.

"You better control your agent, Gibbs. You don't want me to press charges, do you? I think the last thing you want to happen is for me to go free."

"Quiet!" Gibbs hollered as Tony went back into the corner, panting furiously.

Harris shrugged as he waited for Gibbs to speak. Suddenly, the interrogation room door opened slowly and Abby stepped in.

"Ooh, what do we ha-"

"Shut. Up." Gibbs growled , then he turned to Abby, his face softening.

"What are you doing here, Abbs?"

"I wanted to get a piece of this guy myself for hurting Timmy, Gibbs. Please can I stay here?" she whispered.

Gibbs sighed, giving in, and gestured her to go stand with Tony and Ziva. Then he put his "pissed face" back on and turned to Harris.

"Who hired you?" he said.

"Well, wouldn't you like to know," sneered Harris.

"Do you want to be sentenced to life? Never mind, you'll be sentenced to death. Wanted for 150 murders throughout the world? You must be a first class killer, _Snake._"

Harris shrugged and smirked at the sound of his pseudonym. "I guess you could say that; to bad you only have evidence for one-no wait," Harris paused and looked up the ceiling as he counted on his fingers. "Four," he smiled as he looked right back into Gibbs' ice cold eyes.

Gibbs scowled. He just wanted to punch the smug grin right off the bastard's face. But not yet. He had to wait.

"Make that three. Tim is still alive," Gibbs smiled as he saw Harris' smile disappear.

"W-what do you mean? I killed him, he's dead! God dammit, why won't he just die!"

Gibbs smirked as he saw Harris' mask of arrogance turn to fear.

"What's wrong? Scared your Boss is gonna punish you?" blurted Abby as she stomped over.

"You have a _very_ sexy voice, milady," grinned Harris, smiling charmingly.

Abby glanced over at Gibbs, who nodded and she instantly punched Harris in the nose.

"Argh! What the hell! My Boss said you did that to-" but then he stopped, realizing he'd said too much. "I have nothing else to say; I'm going to deny everything you ask me," Harris quickly said.

"Y-your, Boss is Fred Rinnert?" whispered Abby, taken aback.

"Not saying anything."

"Ziva." said Gibbs.

Ziva smiled innocently as she nodded.

"Everyone out of the room, besides Ziva and Harris." Gibbs ordered.

"What! Why?" yelled Tony. One look from Gibbs, though, and Tony immediately shut up.

"Sorry," Tony said sheepishly as he followed out of the room and into observation.

Gibbs smirked at Ziva as he shut the door, but not before he saw the terror in Harris' eyes. He joined Abby and Tony in observation, shutting off the recording and speaker.

"Why are you-" began Abby. But knowing Ziva, she closed her mouth and began to watch what was happening on the other side.

"I hope he gets the worse," growled Tony.

Gibbs glanced at him curiously. Tony's eyes said "murder," and he hoped that it wouldn't actually come to that with him. He pulled Tony out of the room and into the hallway, getting a glare from the senior agent.

"What?" Tony hissed impatiently.

"Are you okay?" Gibbs asked.

"Of course I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be? Tim the one who almost died three times; you should be asking him if he's okay!" Tony said in a loud whisper.

"Tony, I know this guy is a total asshole, but you need to calm down."

"Calm down? Calm down? How can I calm down! This guy he...he tried to kill my best friend. He was dying right in front of me, Boss and I couldn't do a damn thing! I-I felt helpless...like a failure. I couldn't save the man who is like a brother to me!" Tony cried, a couple of tears making their way down his face.

Gibbs sighed sadly, watching his agent beat himself over something he couldn't control.

"Tony. I'm going to say this once and only once. It. Was not. Your. Fault. It could have been anyone of us that was with Tim at that moment. Anyone could have been shot in the leg. You want to blame yourself for something? Blame yourself for losing control!"

Tony was about to argue, but then he realized that Gibbs was right; he usually was.

"Okay. Thanks, Boss."

"Glad you understand. Now lets get back to the show."

Tony smiled slightly as he and Gibbs went back to the window.

"Where were you guys? You almost missed the best part," squealed Abby excitedly.

The two agents grinned as they turned their focus towards the scene in interrogation. Ziva was standing behind Harris, whispering in his ear, while he had a skeptical look on his face.

"What's she saying, Abby?" asked Tony.

"Uh...I don't know. I can only make out parts. Something like 'skin' 'salt' and 'limbs.'

"Sounds kinky," chuckled Tony before getting head-slapped by Gibbs.

"Sorry, Boss."

Suddenly Ziva whisked out a knife and grabbed Harris' fingers, getting dangerously close to them with the blade. They saw the fear grown in their suspect's eyes and a couple of tears forming in them.

"Got him," said Gibbs.

Finally, after a minute or so, Ziva left interrogation and met the team out in the hallway.

"He confirmed that Rinnert ordered the hit and he even was nice enough to give us an address. Rinnert's hideout is in a warehouse facility on Minot Street in Norfolk. There are three unarmed men, not including Rinnert, and one of them is a spy."

"Good. Call security and have Harris brought to a maximum security prison," said Gibbs as Ziva took out her phone and dialed.

"Geez, Ziva, you make all the little boys cry," laughed Tony.

Ziva smiled the began to give information to the person on the other line. This was it. They were finally going to get Rinnert. Tim was finally going to be safe.

~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~

Ziva and Gibbs along with some metro cops and a couple other NCIS agents arrived at Rinnert's warehouse, armed and ready for a take down. Tony, much to his disappointment, was with Abby, waiting nervously for any news. This was personal. A metro cop _and_ an NCIS agent were murdered, and that angered fellow officers.

"Wait for my signal," said Gibbs through his mic. "Go!"

All at once, the officers and agents barged into the building, guns in the air.

"NCIS! Put your hands up!" yelled Gibbs.

A man came out from behind some crates, an automatic gun in his hand. Instantaneously, Ziva pulled the trigger and shot him in the chest. Some metros removed the gun from his side and made sure he was absolutely dead.

"Don't shoot! Don't shoot!" yelled another one, coming out from his hiding spot.

"Get down on the ground!" yelled an angry cop. The man cooperated and laid down on his stomach. Gibbs walked up beside him and bent down to his level.

"Where's Rinnert?"

"I-In the room behind the c-crates," he whimpered.

While metro cops arrested the goon, Ziva and Gibbs made their way to Rinnert.

_Almost there..._

_ Getting closer..._

_ Here we go..._

"NCIS! Rinnert put your hands where we can see them! It's over!" Gibbs shouted as they ran into the room. They saw the surprised but angered look on Fred's face, then without warning, Rinnert took an army knife and quickly slit his throat. He dropped to the ground, his dark crimson blood flowing slowly from the gash.

"That just made things a lot easier," breathed Ziva.

All of a sudden...

_"NCIS, drop your weapon!"_

Gibbs and Ziva looked at each other before running back out into the opening, just as they heard the rhythm of gunshots. By the time they cam out, the other agents were removing a gun from, what they figured was, the Harris was talking about.

"It's over," whispered Gibbs as he put away his gun. "It's finally over."

**What do you think? Next chapter to come soon. If anything is messed up(punctuation, sentences, words, etc) please excuse it, because I have a major headache and I'm ridiculously tired. Don't forget to R&R! Thanks :))**


	15. Stricken

**Chapter 15**

**Sorry, again, for the long wait. I GOT A JOB! :)) _But_ now it's taking up most of my time :( **

**Don't worry though, I'll try to update each chapter as fast as I can. Thanks for reading! :)**

**Bold **_Italic_: Harris' voice

_Italic_: Tim's voice

Gibbs stood quietly outside the warehouse, watching the scene as Ducky and Palmer bagged all the bodies- without care- and loaded them into the truck.

"Duck," Gibbs called to the older man.

"Yes, Jethro!" replied Ducky as he shut the van doors and walked over to his friend.

"Ziva and I are gonna pick up Tony and Abby so we can head back to the hospital. Are you going to come?"

"Perhaps later, Jethro. As much as I want to visit young Timothy, I want to examine these bastards and get them out of my sight as quick as possible."

Gibbs smirked as he nodded, patting Ducky on the back and returning to Ziva and the waiting car. They sped off towards the Navy Yard, intent on finding out how Tim was doing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Finally!" exclaimed Abby as Gibbs pulled up at the building entrance where she and Tony were waiting for them.

"Did you get him? Did you get Rinnert?" she asked anxiously.

"Yes, Abby, we got him. He and his men are dead; one of them gave in and is in metro custody," replied Gibbs.

"Good," Abby smiled as she helped a relieved Tony into the backseat.

The rest of the car ride was silent and tense. Everyone was anxious; lost in their own thoughts of Tim. When they got to the hospital, everyone jumped out of the car- except for Tony who slowly got out with his crutches- and made their way inside the hospital. Since Tim had been moved to a new and more private room, Gibbs had to ask, again, what the room number was.

"Room 235, sir," said the brown haired nurse sweetly.

"Thanks," Gibbs nodded and with that the team hastily made their way to the room. Finally they could visit him without having to keep looking over their shoulders. Tim is safe, Rinnert is dead, and Harris is-

Suddenly, Gibbs phone rang loudly, earning him glares from some of the nurses. He flipped it open and answered it, annoyed.

"What!" he yelled angrily. This phone call was stalling him from seeing his agent and he didn't want to wait any longer.

"He's what?" He said, toning his voice down a little. Tony, Ziva, and Abby stopped in their tracks, curious and worried about what was being said on the other side.

"When?...Do you know by who?...Well, you don't need to, he's already dead...Thanks for letting me know." Gibbs hung up and faced the frozen team.

"What was that, Boss?" Tony asked cautiously.

"Harris is dead.. The spy we killed earlier shot him while he was being escorted into the prison."

The group grinned happily at this news. Even though Harris was going to miss out on prison torture, he'd gotten what he rightfully deserved.

"That's great, now can we go see Timmy?" whined Abby.

The team resumed their journey to their friend's room, getting more and more excited with each step they took. When they reached the doorway, Abby quietly tiptoed in, followed by the others, and stealthily approached her slumbering geek. Tim was pale; too pale for her liking. Dark shadows were vivid underneath his closed eyes, and a small purple bruise was formed on his cheek from when Harris had kicked him.

"Oh, Timmy," Abby sighed as she sat down next to his head and grabbed his hand.

Gibbs watched as the scientist babied his agent. He smirked , but it disappeared when he looked at his agent more closely. His face was drained of almost all color, but at least their were no more blue lips or fingers. His breathing was a bit scratchy, but other than that, Tim's health was starting to look up. Gibbs placed a hand on his agent's arm and patted it gently.

"You're gonna be okay, Tim. Harris is dead. You're safe, now."

Suddenly, a weak groan escaped from Tim's mouth.

"Tim?" Abby said excitedly, standing up quickly, but refusing to let go of his hand. The team watched quietly, having waiting for this moment to come.

McGee's eyes fluttered open slowly as he shifted in his bed.

"Huh?" he rasped before he broke out in a coughing fit. Gibbs placed a steady hand on his shoulder as he took the cup of ice from Tony's outstretched hand. Tim gratefully took it and sighed as the cool substance soothed his throat. Squeezing his eyes shut to get better focus, Tim gave the cup back to whoever would take it and took a shaky breath. When he reopened them, the team could see that their was less recognition in his eyes.

"Tim?" Questioned Gibbs slowly.

Tim suddenly began to hyperventilate, his eyes flicking to every corner of the room, but not to any of his teammates.

"Gibbs! What's happening?" Abby cried.

"Please...no! Please don't hurt me! Someone please help me!" Tim yelled frantically as he began to thrash around. "H-Harris is- he's right here, why isn't anyone helping me!"

Gibbs' concern began to grow as he tried to calm his agent down. McGee was hallucinating, or having a really bad nightmare. He was believing that Harris was in the room, getting closer and closer to killing him.

"No...no! Nononononono! Where- where is he? He was just- he was right there! This isn't right; I have to help find him, I-I have to work, I _need_ to work!" gasped Tim as he struggled to get out of the bed.

"Tim! Tim, stop! It's okay!" yelled Gibbs as he gently pushed on Tim's shoulders to lay him back down. "You're going to be okay. Harris is dead, he can't hurt you anymore. He's. Dead."

"Finally, Tim's breathing slowed down and his green eyes focused on Gibbs' blue ones.

"Boss?" He said in a shaky tone.

"Yeah, Tim, it's me. You're okay, Harris is dead."

"Dead?"

"Dead." Gibbs assured.

Tim swallowed as he regained his composure. He looked around the room sheepishly at his friends, wondering what they were all doing there.

"Wh- what happened? The last thing I remember was talking to Tony before falling asleep."

"Harris came in and tried to kill you...again," replied Ziva as she moved into his vision.

Tim frowned, trying to take in all the information that was being said.

"W-what about his Boss? Who ordered the...hit?"

"Rinnert,"stated Gibbs.

"F-Fred Rinnert?" Tim choked out, utterly shocked. The team nodded in confirmation.

"Is he-"

"Yes, he's dead, Tim," assured Gibbs. "Like I said, you're safe now."

"Finally," sighed Tim in relief as he laid back down, wincing when he moved his chest. The bullet wound still hurt from time to time, with or without the meds, but it was getting better.

"Is everyone else alright?" He yawned, but stopped abruptly when a thought came to mind.

"Wh-where's Tony! I heard a gun shot close to me before I blacked out. Is he o-"

"I'm right here, McWorrywart. I only got hit in the leg, but I'm fine."

"Oh," Tim said. He slumped back into the pillows and closed his eyes. "That's good."

Tony grinned as he watched his teammate begin to succumb to sleep.

"Get some sleep, Tim. We'll be here when you wake up," whispered Gibbs.

"Mhmm," Tim mumbled, and in seconds, he was fast asleep once again. The grin on Tony's face instantly fell, revealing a sad frown.

"Is he going to be okay, Boss? I mean it'd be a miracle if he came through this without some...you know-"

"He won't be alone, Tony. He's got us to lean on," stated Gibbs.

Tony nodded as he looked back to Tim. His forehead was suddenly creased, in either pain or fear, but it didn't matter to Tony. To him, he assumed it was both. He put a hand on Tim's shoulder and squeezed it gently. Thankfully, McGee's face evened, showing a calmer and more relaxed facade.

Gibbs watched his senior agent sadly. Tony treated Tim like the brother he never had. So when he read Tony's face he could see the guilt; it said 'I'll be here for you Tim. No one's going to make me leave your side. It's my fault you were poisoned and I'm not going to let anything like that happen again.'

"Ziva, Abbs, why don't you go home for a while and rest," said Gibbs. "You guys can come back tomorrow. Tony and I will stay here and make sure he's alright."

"Okay," sighed Abby sadly. She really wanted to stay with Tim, but she wasn't going to disobey a direct order, especially from Gibbs.

"Come on, Abby, I'll drive you home," whispered Ziva.

Abby nodded as she kissed McGee on the forehead, Ziva doing the same thing, and then they both left the room. Gibbs watched them leave and sighed as he turned back to his agents. He watched Tim's chest rise and fall slowly, hoping that it would never become immobilized ever again. But, he was more worried about Tim's mental health; was it really going to get better? He's been through so much and Gibbs doubted that Tim would come out unscathed.

"I need a coffee," he said abruptly.

Tony looked up at him from looking at Tim, about to say something, but Gibbs was already gone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~

Tony sighed and he leaned his crutches against the nightstand. He sat down in the uncomfortable plastic chair and began to watch over his "little brother."

"Don't worry, buddy, we're here for you. I'm here for you." He grabbed Tim's limp hand and squeezed it gently. He glanced momentarily at the tube that ran from Tim's other hand to an I.V. bag that held his medication- or what Tony liked to call "the good stuff." Memories, or more like nightmares, flashed through his mind. No one could tell him otherwise: it was his fault Tim's stay at the hospital and recovery was going to be extended. _Why didn't I trust my gut? Dammit Dinozzo, what's wrong with you?_

"I'm sorry, Probie," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."

_Pain._

_ Stinging._

_ Tired._

_ Hard to breathe._

_ What the hell happened?_

"-We're here for you."

_Who's that? Sounds familiar._

"I'm sorry, Probie."

_Probie? It's Tony- wait, what's he sorry for? Oh god, someone's hurt! Abby? Sarah? Come on, tell me! I have to wake up, I need to know!_

Tim tried opening his eyes, but it felt like there were heavy lead weights holding his eyelids now.

_Come on you weak loser! Come on Tim, open you eyes!_

Finally after much struggling, Tim's eyes blinked open, adjusting to the dim whiteness of the room. For a moment he thought he was dead, but he could feel pain, so he figured he wasn't. He tried to move his hand so he could wipe his hand over his exhausted eyes, but it barely budged. He looked over at his hand to see what was restricting it, and he saw another hand was enveloped with his. He traced the hand all the way up the arm and found a face. _Tony. _ His friend was grinning goofily at him when he saw that Tim was awake.

_Yep. I'm dead._

Tim groaned slightly when he tried to sit up and pain rippled through his whole body.

"Hey, take it easy, Tim," Tony said putting a hand on McGee's shoulder.

_Tim? Uh oh, first name's being used. I'm in trouble._

"Relax, Probie, you're not in trouble."

_Phew- but wait, should I trust Tony? I guess I could, but right now, I need some answers._

"W-what's going on?"

"You were-"

"No," mumbled Tim as he squeezed his eyes shut and then quickly reopen them to look at Tony. "You were saying my first name and apologizing. Something happened. Who was it? Abby? Sarah?"

"Calm down. Everyone's fine. It's you that you need to worry about."

"What do you- Oh, god." Suddenly everything came flooding back to him. Crime scene, Harris, the safe house, being shot. He could feel all the color suddenly drain from his face, and Tony didn't fail to notice this.

"H-Harris. He's still out there, isn't he? I'm never going safe again!" Tim cried.

"McGee! Snap out of it!" Shouted Tony as he grabbed his friend's trembling shoulders. "Harris is dead. Do you understand? He was killed; you're safe now, alright?"

Tim looked at Tony intently with pitiful green eyes, trying to find any sign that he was lying.

"A-are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Now take a deep breath and relax."

Tim nodded shakily and did as he was told. After a couple minutes, Tim regained his breathing pattern and he laid back down, completely exhausted.

"Now, how are you feeling?"

"Tired. Sore. My throat feels weird and my head hurts a little." Suddenly, Tim noticed the crutches sitting next to Tony, and since he could feel both legs without any pain, he instantly came to the conclusion that Tony was injured.

"W-What happened to you leg?"

"My leg? Oh that! Harris shot me in the leg, but it's no biggie."

Tim raised an eyebrow and looked at Tony skeptically.

"Really, Tim, I'm fine," chuckled Tony.

Tim sighed as he close his eyes and yawned. He was very tired, but he didn't want to go to sleep. He couldn't. The nightmares were so realistic and he couldn't take any more of it.

~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Tim closed his eyes, Tony smiled slightly. His leg hurt like hell since the pain meds were wearing off, but he didn't want to scare Tim. He already had enough on his mind and he didn't need to add himself to Tim conscience. He assumed Tim had fallen asleep when his eyes stayed closed, but then Tim's scratchy voice began to speak.

"What are you sorry about, Tony?" Tim asked.

"What?"

"You said you were sorry. What were you talking about?"

"When did I say that?" Tony scoffed.

"Don't lie to me, Tony. Just tell me, please." Tim voice cracked, making Tony's heartbreak. He blamed himself for Tim getting hurt, but he didn't want Tim to know this.

"It's nothing, Probie."

"Tony," Tim pleaded.

Tony grumbled in resignation.

"It's- It was my fault you were poisoned."

"What?" Asked Tim as his eyes snapped open.

"Yeah I was being stupid and I ignored my gut."

"Tony-"

"Stop. I know what you're going to say. It's my fault, Tim, so don't try to prove me wrong."

"Would you just-"

"You probably hate me right now and I understand that, so I'll just-"

"TONY!" Tim yelled with surprising strength; even Tim startled himself. But instead of lingering on it, he brushed it aside so he could talk some sense into his "big brother."

"Just listen to me for a second, okay? I- I don't blame you. Yeah, maybe you could have been a little more proactive, but it could have happened to anyone. Ziva, Abby, maybe even Gibbs, but it happened to you and you just need to deal with the fact that it did. So please, _please_ stop beating yourself over this."

Tony looked at Tim, his green eyes locking with Tim's pleading ones.

"Alright."

"Thank you," Tim said, lying back down onto his pillows and closing his eyes.

_It wasn't Tony's fault. It was my fault. I was defenseless...weak... God dammit! I can't do anything right. Some field agent I am. Why does he even care how I feel? Why does _anyone_ care? I'm worthless and a stupid screw-up!_

A tear escaped from under his closed eyes and he prayed that Tony missed it. Unfortunately when Tony rubbed his shoulder, he figured it didn't go unnoticed. _Damn!_

"It's alright, buddy," Tony whispered.

_Why is he saying it's alright? It's not alright! He got shot, because of me! Because I was weak! If I didn't fall asleep, then none of this would of happened!_

_**You're weak, McGee. Stupid and weak. That is why you were targeted. That's why you were so easy to get to.**_

_ What was that?_

_**It me you stupid bastard! Wesley Harris. You didn't think you could get rid of me that easy, did you?**_

___Oh, no._

_**I'm going to control you, and before you know it, you are going to wish I'd killed you. Welcome to the rest of your life, McGee.**_

** There's that chapter :) A little brotherly love between Tim and Tony. Next chapter is focused more on Tim's psychological problems. Don't forget to R&R! :)**


	16. Destruction

**Chapter 16**

**OMG thanks sooooo much for all the reviews/author/story/fave. story alerts so far! I luv you guys! Hope you like this chapter and sorry it took so long for me to update the story!**

Tim opened his eyes slowly, blinking around at his surroundings. The light was much brighter this time and he had no idea why that was. It definitely was not helping the throbbing pain in the back of his head. He looked to his left and found Tony reading a magazine and eating..._jello? He's eating my jello!_ He groaned in annoyance and Tony instantly looked at him in concern.

"What's wrong, Tim?" He asked as he leaned forward.

"Y-your eating my jello," mumbled Tim.

The worry lines disappeared as they were replaced with lines of mirth.

"You snooze you lose, Probie."  
>"Not my fault. These drugs."<p>

"Yeah, well at least you don't feel any pain; my leg hurts like a bitch!"

Tim frowned, looking over to Tony's leg to see what he was talking about.

"What happened to you leg?"

Tony's smile vanished, wondering why Tim didn't remember.

"Y-you don't remember? I got shot after Harris poisoned you."

Tim gasped as he began to sit up.

"No, you're fine. We both are."

Tim breathed in relief, the looked at Tony and frowned.

"What?" said Tony.

"Why were you eating my jello?"

"You were sleeping...and I was hungry."

Tim rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Where's Gibbs?" Tim yawned as he rubbed his eyes.

"Who knows? He left a few hours ago for a coffee and he hasn't returned since." Then Tony noticed the worry that shone in McGee's eyes. "Remember: Rinnert is dead and Harris is dead. Boss probably bought a dozen coffees so he could down them all in two minutes; not to mention that he likely poured bourbon into everyone of them."

Tim gave a small laugh, but for some reason, he paled instantly.

"Now what?" Tony chuckled.

Tim glanced towards the doorway and back at Tony. Tony, then, finally realized what Tim was indicating and winced.

"But there's never anything wrong with the occasional alcohol."

_Thwack!_

"Sorry, Boss."

"Hey, Boss," Tim smiled tiredly.

"Tim, how are you feeling?"

"A little better; no worse, though," replied Tim.

Then there was a moment of awkward silence.

"So...when can I leave?" questioned Tim out of the blue.

"The doctor said you can leave tomorrow, baring any complications," said Gibbs.  
>"Complications?" Tim and Tony said in unison.<p>

"Infections."

"Oh," said Tim.

Then there was another moment of awkward silence. Suddenly...

"Boss, I'm sorry!" Tim blurted out.

Both Gibbs and Tony frowned, and Gibbs moved in closer to his younger agent, sitting on the opposite side of Tony.

"What for?" Asked Gibbs curiously.

"It's my fault I got shot."

"And why do you suppose that is?"

"Because I should have had Ziva's six, but I didn't. I should have had Tony's also, but I fell asleep. I was weak."

Gibbs' frown eased up and then he glared at Tony for a moment. Tony, getting the hint, got up and stretched.

"I'm going to see what I have to do to get some more jello around here." And with that, Tony quietly left the room.

Gibbs looked back at his agent, the young man's eyes downcast, looking intently at his hands.

"Tim, look at me," said Gibbs. McGee looked up at his Boss, but refused to make eye contact.

"You need to understand something. _Nothing_ that happened, over the last few days, was your fault."

"But-"

"No buts. No one blames you, therefore you shouldn't blame yourself."

Tim brought his eyes over and looked Gibbs straight in the eyes, searching for any sign of bullshit.

"Are you-"

"Sure? Of course I am. So, stop beating yourself up for something that isn't your fault. I mean it, or you'll be doing desk duty for two months instead of one. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir- I mean yes."

Gibbs quirked a smile and patted Tim on the shoulder. Then without warning, Gibbs quickly head-slapped Tim.

"Ah! What was that-"

"That's for apologizing; it's a sign of weakness," said Gibbs.

The second Gibbs said 'weakness,' Tim wince inwardly. All he could hear was Harris' voice echoing in his head. _Weak, weak, weak. You're weak. You're so weak, McGee. Why can't you be like the rest of your team? You're weak! Why do you even bother living? You should have let me kill you, then your team could finally stop worrying about their weakest link. You're just dead weight on their shoulders, McGee. Weak!"_

"Tim!"

McGee shook out of his trance and looked at his Boss, who had a concerned look on his face.

"Huh?"

"I called your name five times. I asked if you wanted something to eat."

Tim looked away to the door, only then, noticing the small nurse holding a clipboard, looking at him quizzically.

"Oh...ah...no. I'm good. I'm not that hungry right now," lied Tim. Truth was, he was starving and he wanted to eat so bad, but he felt like puking.

"Just bring him another jello," Gibbs whispered to the nurse. She nodded and left the room. Gibbs turned back to McGee and looked at him suspiciously.

"Are you okay? You seemed to have zoned out for a moment there."

"Huh? No, I'm fine, just a little tired."

Gibbs nodded hesitantly, not believing what was being said, but he decided not to push the topic any further.

"Then rest up. Abby and Ziva are going to come by later and Abby's been dying to see you."

Tim smiled weakly as he laid down and closed his eyes.

"Good night, Tim."

"Night, Boss...Boss?"

"Yeah, Tim?"

McGee winced inwardly again. Did he just hear an annoyed tone in his Boss' voice? Maybe Harris was right; maybe he was a weight on his team's shoulders. But shouldn't he trust Gibbs? After all, he is a man of his words. Right? Tim changed his mind about the question, he now thought was childish and stupid, he was going to ask Gibbs. So instead, he feigned falling asleep and listened to see what Gibbs would do next. Would he hear the sigh of relief and the screech of a chair, followed by receding footstep? Or would he feel Gibbs' hand hold his like Tony had done? Before he could see if his questions would be answered, he fell back into a deep and troubled sleep.

~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gibbs waited for an answer from Tim, but he got none; it looked like he'd fallen asleep. He couldn't help but noticed the pained and sad look on Tim's face after he'd answered Tim and waited for him to say something back. Something was up and he was going to find out sooner or later. He preferred sooner so he could help his agent... his "son," but Tim wasn't exactly making it easy. He wasn't a great liar, but he sure could hide his emotions well. Gibbs sighed as he placed his hand on Tim's forehead, rubbing it slightly with his thumb.

"We're gonna get you through this, Tim."

** Not a long chapter, but I felt that it would be a good place to stop this chapter. Thanks for reading and I'll try to get the next chapter up as soon as I can! Review like always! :)) **


	17. Controlled

**Chapter 17**

** How's everybody doing? Sorry again for the long wait, but I never have that much time anymore...but here comes the holidays and I'll have so much more time :))) Here's the next chapter, enjoy and don't forget to review! Once again **_italic _is Tim's voice and **_bold italic _**is Harris.

Tim woke up feeling groggy and confused. _Where am I again?_

**_The hospital, you idiot. Where you really should be, though, is in a coffin; even your team thinks so._**

Tim whimpered slightly at the thought of being buried six feet underground. Then, suddenly, something squeezed his hand tightly.

"Timmy? Are you alright?"

_Abby._

Tim slowly opened his eyes, waiting for them to focus, then he looked to his right and saw Abby smiling at him, but a concerned glint in her eyes.

"Hey, Abby," Tim whispered, smiling back.

"Are you okay? You were mumbling and whimpering in your sleep."

"Yeah...um..just a bad dream, Abbs," Tim lied.

"You sure?"

Tim nodded, adding a forced smile, hoping to ease Abby's concerns. He just prayed she would buy it.

"Okay... How are you feeling?"

_Yes! She bought it!_ "Tired, but better. Is Ziva here to?" He asked as he noticed another jacket hanging on a different chair..

"Oh, yeah. She just went to the bathroom, she'll be right back."

Tim nodded as he yawned and started to sit up. By the time he was finished, he felt completely drained of all energy.

"So," said Abby as she watched Tim compose himself, breathing slowly. " Are you ready to go home?"

"Home? Isn't that tomorrow?"

"No," Abby said looking confused.

"How long was I out?"

"Well you fell asleep yesterday morning so...a day and a half. It's almost noon now."

"Wow. Time flew by fast!" Exclaimed Tim.

Suddenly, Ziva emerged from the bathroom, concluding drying her hands. She, then, noticed that Tim was awake and she smiled gleefully at him.

"Good afternoon, Tim," she grinned. "I have got to say, I have never seen someone sleep so long. Are you feeling better?"

"I hope you're feeling better than me," growled a voice from the doorway.

Everyone looked in that direction and gasped. It was Harris, only he was covered in blood and dirt; like he just came out from the grave.

"Surprised? You should be. I've come back to kill you, because I told you: I'm not that easy to get rid of.

"Leave Timmy alone!" Screamed Abby as she braced herself protectively against Tim. Ziva looked horrifyingly at Harris, but wasted no time as she reached for the call button.

"Ah ah ah!" Harris said and he quickly pulled the gun from his belt and shot Ziva in the head.

"NO!" Tim shouted.

Then Harris shot Abby straight in the chest, and Tim watched, horrified, as she fell on top of him, her blood spraying his face. She instantly slid the ground, falling to a crumpled heap.

"Abby! No!" cried Tim, tears flowing out. Two of the people he loved were gone forever.

"I thought you were dead!" He yelled angrily.

"You thought wrong, McGee. I escaped death just like you did numerous times. But not again." Harris raised the gun and he pulled the trigger; a shot rang out and Tim watched the bullet coming straight for his head.

~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tim shot up, gasping for air frantically.

"Timmy! It's okay!"

"McGee! Please calm down, you are going to hurt yourself!"

"Probie, it was just a bad dream!"

"Tim! Calm down!"

"Abby! Where's Abby...and Ziva? I need to- I have t-to see them!"

"We're right here, Timmy," said Abby worriedly as she and Ziva moved into his line of sight.

He looked at them with tired red eyes and he instantly began to sob. This was becoming too much for him. The team all looked at each other in concern, wondering what they were going to do.

"I'm- I'm never g-going to get o-over this am I?" Tim cried.

Gibbs scowled. How could Tim think that? He stepped over to Tim and he smacked the side of his head. Tim looked up and immediately stopped crying, only to sound of his sniffing were left.

"Don't ever say that, McGee. You're going to get through this and we'll all going to be with you every step of the way. It'll be no cake walk, but you _will_ get through this."

Tim sniffed, but didn't nod, though he still knew he could trust Gibbs.

"So what happened?" Asked Gibbs, particularly to Ziva and Abby, but Tim answered instead.

"Harris, he- he came in and shot-shot Ziva and A-"

"You were only having a nightmare, McGee, Harris is dead," Ziva cut in.

Tim's mouth dropped and looked at Ziva and Abby, dumbfounded.

"Th-then what happened? I d-don't remember falling asleep."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**3 minutes ago**

Abby watched as Tim began to sit himself up against the pillows. Without warning, Tim gasped, his face twisting in pain, instantly drained of all color.

"Tim, what's wrong? She yelled.

McGee's trembling hand shot up to his chest, clutching his bullet wound. Obviously the nurses, who were supposed to be helping Tim, weren't giving him enough pain killers. Before she could get up to press the call button, Tim slackened against the pillows. Abby looked over at him and saw that he had passed out from the pain.

"Tim?" She asked, wanting to see if he really was unconscious or if he's was just taking a breather. Abby reached over to his neck, feeling for a pulse. Sighing in relief when she felt a very fast but noticeable thump against her finger, she sat back in her chair and watched her geek carefully. Just then, Ziva came out from the bathroom, drying her hands on a brown paper towel, before discarding it into the trashcan. She frowned as she looked from Abby's pale and tear stained face to Tim's pain and fear filled one.

"What happened, Abby? I thought I heard voices, was he awake just a moment ago?"

Abby nodded sadly as she grabbed Tim's hand. "He- he woke up for a little bit, then when he tried to sit up, it m-must have hurt his chest and the pain caused him to p-pass out."

"Should we get a nurse in here? Maybe he needs some more pain medications."

Abby shook her head. "Not yet. When he wakes up again and he's still in more pain, then we'll call. The meds make him tired, and I think the last thing he wants to do is sleep; that's all he's been doing the past few days."

"I know, Abby, but-"

All of a sudden, Tim's heart rate intensified, his breathing becoming harsh and quick.

"What's going on?" Cried Abby.

Just at that moment, Gibbs came in, Tony at his heels, and as soon as he saw the situation, he ran to the bed and demanded answers. Abby told him what happened and Gibbs looked at his troubled agent sadly. Suddenly, Tim shot up and began grasping for air like he'd been held underwater for too long. His eyes were wide with fear and tears were spilling out onto his flushed cheeks.

"Timmy! It's okay!" Abby blurted out.

"McGee! Please calm down, you are going to hurt yourself!" Ziva yelled

"Probie, it was just a bad dream!" Shouted Tony as he helped Gibbs hold Tim shoulders down.

"Tim! Calm down!" Gibbs yelled.

Thankfully, after a couple minutes, Tim calmed down just before a nurse came rushing in to sedate him again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

** Present**

Tim finally had been discharged from the hospital. After the incident with his nightmare, he'd kept his mouth shut, not wanting to talk to anyone about anything. The car ride to, what Tim thought was, his house, was also silent. Tim just stared blankly out the window, unaware of his surroundings. Tony watched his friend from the passenger seat, occasionally glancing in the rear view mirror. Gibbs, even though he was driving, was doing the same. They both noticed how pale and quiet he was; he seemed...depressed. Gibbs and Tony shared a look then faced back towards the road. Gibbs pulled up at his house, only then, that Tim realized that it wasn't his apartment.

"Boss, why are we here? I'll be fine at my place."

"No, Tim, you aren't fit to be alone right now," said Gibbs, shutting off the car.

"Besides, it's the Doc's orders," added Tony.

"A-are you sure? I don't want to be a burden."

Gibbs eyebrows furrowed. _Where did he get the idea that he was being a burden?_

"Yes, I'm sure. Now come on, lets go inside so you can eat and rest."

Tim nodded, still feeling reluctant, and got shakily out of the car with Gibbs' help. When they got inside, Gibbs headed for the kitchen, Tim the couch and Tony the bathroom. After eating, Gibbs showed a sleepy Tim the guest room, the bathroom, and some clean clothes. Tim looked at the bed and sighed sadly.

"What's wrong?" Asked Gibbs, concerned.

"It's- uh- it's been awhile since I've slept in a normal bed," Tim chuckled weakly.

"Yeah, I know that feeling," Gibbs smiled.

"Well, I shouldn't be complaining about it; I should be grateful for the things you guys are doing for me and I shouldn't be scared to be sleeping in a new bed."

Gibbs looked at McGee suspiciously. _There he goes again! Why is he putting himself down?_ When Tim passed him to head to the bathroom for a shower, Gibbs swore he heard Tim mutter the word 'weak.' Gibbs frowned as he watched Tim go into the bathroom and shut the door. _He was definitely having a talk with him afterward._

~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~

Tim shut the door calmly and as soon as he was out of Gibbs' sight, he removed the mask of happiness. Leaning against the door, he let himself slide down to the cold tile floor. Tears threatened to fall, but he didn't want to be weak.

_**What's the matter, McGee? Don't want your team to see what you truly are: a coward?**_

"Stop. Stop. Stop! Stop! STOP!" Tim cried loudly, grabbing both sides of his head and pulled at his short sandy blonde hair. "Please, make it stop!" he whimpered.

"Tim?" A voice, on the other side of the door, said.

McGee stiffened and cleared his throat.

"Ye-yes? Who is it?"

"It's Tony. Are you alright in there?"

"Um, yeah- yeah, I'm fine, just the soap wouldn't stop slipping out of my hands," Tim said adding a humorless laugh.

A couple of seconds of silence then... "Okay. Shout if you need anything."

"I will."

Tim waited for several seconds until he heard Tony move away from the door and make his way slowly down the stairs. Tim sighed. _That was close._ Tim stood up and turned on the shower and then slowly undressing. After taking off his shirt, he looked in the mirror, staring at the bandage covering the right side of his chest. Wincing slightly, he peeled it back so he could get a good look at the damage. Thankfully, the wound was stitched up and that he didn't have to see a black hole infinity. Taking a deep breath, he removed the bandage, placed a new one on the counter and got into the shower, being careful of his stitches. The hot water felt good on his body and for once, he felt relaxed. Smiling slightly, Tim let the water take over him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey, Boss?"

"Yeah, Tony?"

Tony sat down in a chair across from Gibbs, who was sitting on the couch, and placed his crutches on the floor.

"...Just a sec...I'm outta...breath."

Gibbs smirked as he took a sip of his coffee.

"Okay. Something's up with Tim. I went up to see if he needed anything and I heard him yelling 'stop it' a number of times."

Gibbs looked at him curiously and he put the newspaper, that he had been reading, down.

"I'm really worried about him, Boss. I hate to see him in so much pain; he's hurting...bad. Not just physically, but emotionally, too."

"I know, Tony, but what happened- it's...not something you can easily forget about. It might be awhile before he's the same again...for all of us to be the same again."

Tony nodded sadly and looked at his watch, yawning.

"You need to crash here?" Gibbs said, catching Tony's drift.

"That would be great, Boss," Tony said smiling charmingly.

"Here," Gibbs said getting up from the couch. "Have the couch. I'll get some pillows and blankets."

Tony nodded as he lifted himself up and slowly made his way over to the couch. He hoped Gibbs was right. He wanted his family back; he wanted his little brother back. Tony laid down and closed his eyes, using his arm as a pillow.

"Thanks, Boss," he said tiredly.

"Night, Tony," Gibbs replied patting Tony's shoulder.

"Hey, Boss?"

"Hmm?"

"Can you check on Tim to make sure he that he hasn't drowned himself in the shower."

"Don't worry, I will."

"Thanks." With that, Tony drifted off into a deep sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gibbs sighed and smiled as he looked at, the now slumbering, Tony. Then he left his side and made his way to the stairs. He looked up and listened for a moment. The shower had been running for thirty minutes, but finally the water shut off and Gibbs relaxed. He made his way upstairs and knocked in the bathroom door.

"Tim, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just needed some time to think."

"Alright then, well hurry up, you need to rest."

"Okay."

In ten minutes, Tim had put on a fresh bandage and some clean clothes. He stepped out of the bathroom, the cold air hitting his face, and almost running into Gibbs.

"Sorry, my fault," he mumbled.

Gibbs frowned. _That's it!_

"Hey!" Gibbs shouted forcefully, but winced when he saw Tim shrink back. "Why are you putting yourself down? Why do you keep apologizing for everything, technically for things that aren't even your fault? You need to stop! Nothing is your fault. Why do you think that it is?

"I-"

"I know it's hard to accept, but the truth is, there's nothing _to_ accept; you weren't blamed then, therefore you aren't blamed now!"

"Boss-"

"I'm not done, Tim. You're obviously not fine; Tony heard you crying in the bathroom earlier, you keep calling yourself weak, and you're doubting yourself, too. Listen to me, Tim. You. Are. Not. Alone. You have people who can help you- who you can talk to. We're all here for you, why can't you see that? It may be a long road to recovery, but soon, everything will be back to the way it was. Do you understand?"

Tim looked at his Boss in shock, his eyes wide in complete shock. He couldn't bottle it up any longer. He suddenly burst out in tears, covering his face with his hands. Gibbs face softened as he listened to Tim speak.

"I-I swear I didn't mean to- to say those things, it- it's just the nightmares; Harris is in every single one of them. He's making me believe- the things he says, I believe them all. It hurt s-so much, Boss. I don't think I can take it anymore!"

"Come here," Gibbs whispered as he brought Tim into a fatherly embrace. "It's okay, you're going to be alright. They're just nightmares, they aren't real." Then, while still hugging the sobbing Tim, he led him into the guest room and sat down on the bed. He let Tim cry it all out as he soothed him, rubbing circles on his shivering back. After awhile, the sobs toned down to small sniffles, and not long after, the sounds stopped and Tim leaned even more on Gibbs. Gibbs looked down and saw that Tim had fallen asleep on his shoulder, exhausted from crying so much. Gibbs smiled when he heard the soft sound of Tim's snoring filling the room. Gibbs stroked the back of Tim's head, then gently laid him on the bed. He brought the covers over Tim's body and up to his shoulders, watching as Tim sighed in content. He wiped the stray tears from Tim's face then he squeezed his shoulder.

"Good night, Tim. You will get better, don't you _ever_ think otherwise." He watched Tim breathe in and out then he left the room, this time, leaving the door open a crack. Gibbs looked at his agent one last time before he made his way back downstairs. Tim was going to get better; he was, and they all were going to help him.

** Thanks for reading! Don't forget the reviews :) I decided that this chapter is an early holiday present for you guys and that I hope that the reviews are presents for me! :)) Again, I'll try to get the next chapter up soon. A little preview: The chapter is called "Lies" and even those words from Gibbs might not be enough this time. Happy Holidays! :)**


	18. Nightmares

**Chapter 18**

** I decided to put up another chapter for you guys because I already have two other chapters written in my notebook and I'm way behind haha. This is an extra Christmas present for you guys. Hope you enjoy the chapter and don't forget to review :))**

Tim woke up feeling more drained and tired then ever. He remembered crying on his Boss' shoulder for thirty minutes straight, and guessed that was the reason why. _Well, that's embarrassing. Crying on someone's shoulder; that's we- no, I promised Gibbs I would stop putting myself down. _The upside was that he hadn't gotten any nightmares. He didn't wake up once, or at least he didn't remember waking up at all. maybe they were finally done; maybe Gibbs' talk had helped him. Tim simply smiled at the thought and looked out the window. The bright sun, thankfully, was blocked by the shades, only shining through one open crack. Tim looked back at the ceiling, thinking about all that had happened during the past week. It was so overwhelming; how could things go so bad just because of one stupid crime scene? He desperately wished he could go back in time and change everything, so that none of it would have happened. He just wished everything would go back to normal.

Tim stayed in bed for a couple more silent moments, thinking, until he heard faint voices coming from downstairs. He threw the covers off and brought his feet onto the cold, hardwood floor. Slowly getting up, still feeling immensely sore, Tim made his way to the bathroom, shutting the door and flicked on the light. He looked in the mirror and winced at the sight of him. His eyes were red-rimmed and almost bloodshot. His face was drawn and pale, like he was sick. _Wow, he looked like crap!_ Turning on the faucet, he let the water run and then he splashed the cold water onto his feverish looking face, hoping to make himself appear more healthier. When he finished, he shut off the water and dried his face with a towel. Then, looking at the mirror again, he shrugged; it wasn't extraordinary, but it was good enough. Tim sighed as he shut off the light and opened the door and went downstairs.

He could hear Gibbs and Tony talking in the kitchen. _Were they talking about him? No. Stop being so paranoid._ He could smell food being cooked and it smelled good. Entering the kitchen quietly, Tony was the first to notice him.

"Hey, McSleepyhead," he grinned toothily as he patted the chair seat next to him.

"Hey, Tony," Tim replied, rubbing his face tiredly. He looked at the plates that were in front of Tony and Gibbs and frowned. Why were they eating hamburgers for breakfast?

"What time is it?" He asked, confused.

"Three in the afternoon. You nearly slept all day, Tim," answered Gibbs.

"Wow," was all Tim could say. He sat down besides Tony and put his elbows on the table, resting his head in his hands.

"How are you feeling, buddy?" Asked Tony as his pat Tim's back gently.

"Tired," Tim said lifting his head.

"Did you sleep okay?" Gibbs asked cautiously, placing a plate of food in front of McGee.

"Surprisingly, yeah I did. I had absolutely no nightmares...I think. Did I wake you guys up at all?"

"Nope," said Gibbs. "And that good Tim, you're getting better.

Tim smiled and he began to eat his sandwich, hoping that he wouldn't upchuck it seconds later. He chewed slowly, processing the food, Gibbs and Tony watching carefully in case they had to help Tim get to the bathroom. Fortunately, he didn't, and to the two senior agents, that was a good sign. Tim was getting his appetite back and his nightmares were gone.

~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For the rest of the day, the three relaxed, talked, watched TV, and watched Tony practice walking around without his crutches...it didn't work out so well.

"Argh!" Groaned Tony as he fell on the ground after reaching the end of the living room. Tim tried to stifle his laugh, but it went unsuccessfully.

"What are you giggling about, Chucklehead?" Tony frowned as Gibbs helped him up and led him to the couch.

"Nothing. Nothing at all," smiled Tim as he suddenly yawned. Gibbs caught this and he grabbed Tim's arm, helping him off the chair.

"Alright, go wash up and get ready for bed, Tim," said Gibbs, feeling like a father telling his kid to go to bed.

Tim nodded and made his way up the stairs. When he disappeared, Tony looked at Gibbs and grinned.

"He's getting better, Boss."

"Told you. He just need time." But Gibbs was still a bit concerned. Tim got better a little _too_ fast. Not that he was complaining that he had, but the things that Tim went through were not easy to get over. You would think it would be a little longer than a day or two.

"Get some sleep, Tony."

"On it, Boss," Tony yawned as he laid down on the couch, covered up and instantly fell asleep. Gibbs smiled and then he made his way to his room to change. When he passed the guest room, he saw that it was already occupied. Stepping inside, Gibbs walked up to the bed and saw that Tim was already fats asleep, his light snoring filling the silence of the room. The corner of Gibbs' mouth twitched up into a small smile as he brought the covers over Tim's shoulders.

"Night, Tim," Gibbs said even though Tim probably didn't hear him. Gibbs left the room and got ready for a good night sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hello, McGee."

"No. Please, no."

"You though your nightmares were over? Think again, nerd. I told you I was going to make your life a living hell; the nightmares: they're just getting started. But this...this is real."

"Where am I?" Tim said, noticing that he was in a dark, cement-walled room.

"Doesn't matter. All that matters is that you are going to wish yourself dead...maybe even kill yourself." Harris said as he took a knife, brandishing it in front of Tim's face.

"Please don't hurt me! I'll do- I'll do anything."

"Oh, did you think this was for you? My bad, I guess I forgot to explain things to you." Then without another word, Harris pressed a button and a light flicked on in a corner, falling over a hunched figure. The person looked up, squinting in the light and looked around. When he eyes landed on Tim, they grew wide and she began struggling against the chains that held her to the wall. She tried to yell for him, but the tape across her mouth restricted her from doing so.

"Sarah," Tim whispered in complete shock.

"I'm going to torture you," Harris began as he walked over to Tim's sister. "By torturing the ones you love."

"No, please! Leave her alone! Kill me, just please kill me! Don't hurt her!"

"Too late, McGee!" And with that Harris began slashing Sarah's arms.

"Sarah!" Tim screamed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~

He woke up to the sound of whimpering and crying. Then the small sounds turned into terrified screams. He leaped out of bed, already hearing Tony's crutches on the hallway floor, and he ran to Tim's bedroom.

"Boss," said Tony as they met at the door. Gibbs ignored him as he pushed open the door and ran inside, Tony following closely behind. They found Tim thrashing about, his arm and legs tangled in the sheets and a thin layer of sweat covering his pale face; not to mention the tears and the expression of pain and anguish showing greatly. Another damn nightmare! Not another nightmare! So much for thinking they were gone. The sight before them saddened the two agents.

"P-please don't hurt- don't hurt her..." whimpered Tim.

_Her?_ Gibbs and Tony gave each other a look, wondering what Tim was talking about.

"Oh god, Sarah, I-I'm s-so sorry."

_Sarah._ Gibbs sighed sadly as he rubbed his face in exhaustion. He went over and sat down next to his agent. He began shaking Tim's trembling shoulder and yelled his name.

"Tim...Tim! Wake up, McGee! You're just having a bad dream, Sarah's okay!"

Then Tony decided to join in.

"Probie, it's Tony. You're just having a nightmare. Please wake up. Harris is dead he's not going to hurt you."

Finally, Tim's eyes snapped open and he gasped, looking around wildly.

"Tim calm down! You're okay!" Soothed Gibbs.

"Sarah?"

"No, it's Gibbs and DiNozzo."

"Boss?"

Gibbs nodded as he rubbed Tim's back slowly.

"Where- where am I?"

"My house."

Tim sniffed as he wiped his face with arm.

"I thought- I thought they were over. They're never g-gonna go away."

"They will, Tim. In time."

Tim nodded as he laid back down against the pillows. He sighed as he looked up to the ceiling, missing the look that Tony and Gibbs shared with each other. Then Tim looked at Tony, who smiled sadly at him.

"I hope, that when I wake up, that _my _food isn't gone...Tony," smiled Tim as he tried to lighten the mood.

Tony laughed as he patted Tim's hand. "I'll try not to, but remember what I said: you snooze you lose."

Tim and Gibbs smiled, and once again, McGee yawned, his eyes becoming heavy lidded.

"You going to be alright, buddy?" asked Tony.

Tim looked from Tony to Gibbs and smiled weakly, then nodded.

"Yeah, I'll be okay."

"Are you sure?" Said Gibbs.

"Yeah."

"Okay, and don't forget, we're here for you."

"Okay."

Tony and Gibbs got up and left the room, reluctant, but if Tim said he was okay then they believe him and they didn't want to make him angry if they pushed him anymore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tim watched as the two men left the room. When they finally did, he breathed out in relief. Truth was, he wasn't okay. That nightmare was probably the worse of them all; it felt so real. He just hoped that, soon, it would be over.

_**It will never be over, McGee.**_

Oh no. Not again.

_**You're weak. A piece of shit! Lies, everyone is lying to you, McGee. Weak.**_

__"I'm not listening to you anymore. What you're saying is not true," Tim said aloud.

_** Is that what your, Boss said? How do you know he's not just saying that to get you to shut up?**_

__Tim was about to argue, but then he stopped and though about it. _Could Harris be right? Was Gibbs lying to him?_

_** Of course I'm right! Of course he's lying to you! He hates you! Everyone hates you!**_

__Tim's lip quivered and he rolled onto his side. He couldn't trust anyone anymore. There was no one to turn to. He closed his eyes, a tear slipping onto his face, and with that, he fell into a fitful sleep.

**Awww, I'm so mean to Tim. Don't worry, he will get better. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! Don't forget to review! :)**


	19. Breakdown

**Chapter 19**

** Hey everyone! How was your holidays? Here's chapter 19! DONT FORGET THE REVIEWS!**

He felt horrible. No scratch that, he felt like shit! Not just physically, but emotionally, too. He felt like he just fell down a well of self loathing and depression. What Harris had said to him last night had made him wake up and smell the lies that were right there in front of him. He couldn't believe he fell for Gibbs' bull. Harris' words still echoed in his head, making him sink deeper and deeper into hating himself.

Tim shut his eyes tightly, trying to rid the repetitive voices, but he knew it would never help. At least shutting his eyes blocked out the euphoric sun. _How can the sun be out the sun be out when I feel so crappy?_ Blinking his eyes open and dragging himself out of bed he looked at the clock. _0945. Well, at least I didn't sleep all day this time._ Tim trudged out the bedroom, not even bothering to go into the bathroom and look at his appearance- which he assumed was worse than yesterday- and walked down the stairs. Again, he could hear Tony's and Gibbs' voices. This time they were whispering.

_**They're talking about you, you know.**_

___No they aren't._

_**Yes they are. What did I tell you? They're lying through their teeth to you; they hate you.**_

__Tim shook his head denial, but he knew Harris was probably right. Tim slowly walked towards the kitchen, hoping to catch part of the conversation before they realized he was up.

_ "Do you think we should leave him, Boss?"_

_ "I know what you're thinking, Tony, but I think Tim we'll be fine by himself for-"_

Tim couldn't take it anymore, anger bubbling up inside him. They wanted to ditch him! Harris was right, they didn't care about him! Tim walked in, hiding his anger, and interrupted the two agent's conversation.

"What's going on?" He asked calmly.

"Oh...hey, Tim," said Tony, clearly startled.

"We have to go back to work, Tim, but Ziva will be here in ten minutes," said Gibbs getting up.

Tim sighed inwardly. Why was he being so paranoid?

"Are you going to be okay by yourself for a couple minutes?" Asked Gibbs.

Tim frowned suspiciously. Why was Gibbs treating him like he was a baby, like he was going to crack at any moment? He wasn't a child, he was grown man dammit! Tim nodded as he sat next at the table next to Tony. Almost immediately, Tony got up to "put his dish in the sink," when he probably was trying to get away from Tim. McGee looked at him incredulously. _He really does hate me! Well they won't have to deal with me anymore. He was done._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~

Tony and Gibbs noticed how quiet Tim had been when he sat down at the table. He also looked sick, his face looking pasty and heat could be felt radiating off the young man's body. Something must have happened between after they left his room last night and this morning, but what? Only Tim didn't look up to answering any questions, so they let it be for now.

"Are you sure you're going to be okay, Probie?" Asked Tony suspiciously.

"Yes, Tony," Tim said, getting a bit irritated.

Tony sighed and grabbed his coat, putting it on and getting his crutches as he waited for Gibbs to get his stuff. With one last look at their teammate sitting quietly at the table, Gibbs and Tony headed for the door and exited the house.

~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~

_Finally! I thought they would never leave!_ Tim shot up from the chair and made his way to the kitchen drawers. He rummaged through them frantically, wanting to get this over with as quick as possible. Finally he found what he'd been looking for: a large steak knife, it's sharp blade glinting in the light. It shook in his hand as he began trembling in fear. Why was he doing this? _Because everyone hates you. _Should he do this? _No. Yes. No. Yes. Yes. Yes._

_**Yes! Yes! Come on now, don't wimp out now! Kill yourself!**_

Tim began to pace. He grabbed his head, willing the voices- both his and Harris'- to stop and let him think. He couldn't think with the arguing voices in his head. He couldn't take them anymore; if a knife wouldn't kill him, the voices sure would. He had to do this. It was the only option, the only way. Without a second thought, Tim took the knife handle in two hands and pointed the blade towards him. With a swift movement he plunged the knife into his body, only then knowing he stabbed himself in the stomach and not his chest. He had to try again no matter how much pain he was in right now. He couldn't fail or the voices would never leave. He would die slowly listening to them. No, he wanted to die immediately so the voices would disappear..._ immediately. _The pain in his stomach intensified and was so busy thinking about it that he didn't hear the door open or someone yell his name. Before he could stab himself again, this time in the chest, he felt himself being shoved sideways, the bloody knife slipping from his fingers. The next thing he knew, he felt his head being slammed against something hard and instantly darkness overcame him.

~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~

**Two minutes earlier**

_Oh shit! _"Boss! I forgot my pain meds, I'll be right back!"

"Hurry up, DiNozzo!" Gibbs yelled to him, rolling his eyes.

Tony nodded and turned to back inside. He entered the house and limped to the kitchen.

"Probie! I forgot my pills, could you grab them for me?"

No answer. All he could hear was harsh breathing and crying.

"Tim?" Questioned Tony as he entered the kitchen. What he saw stopped him cold.

"McGee! What the hell are you doing?" He yelled, but the younger agent didn't seem to hear him. Before he knew what he was doing, Tony dropped his crutches and he bolted towards Tim just as he was getting ready to stab himself in the heart.

"Don't you dare, Tim!" Yelled Tony, and then, in a split second, he crashed into Tim, the knife falling from his friend's grip. Tony winced as heard Tim's head come in contact with the counter, but he figured it was better than him being stabbed in the chest. The two fell to heap on the ground, only one of them groaning in pain. Tony, ignoring the pain his leg, got up and limped to the door.

"Boss, call an ambulance now!" With that, he ran back into the house, not even having to check if Gibbs was following him. Tony knelt by Tim and took his limp body in his arms. He unconsciously put his fingers to McGee's neck to feel for a pulse. He sighed in relief when he felt a weak one. The suddenly, he noticed the blood coming from both Tim's head and abdomen. _Crap!_ He placed one hand on the flesh wound and another on McGee's head.

"Come on, Tim, stay with me!" He yelled. The stab wound didn't look too deep, but it was bad enough to have blood seeping through his fingers and onto the floor and Tony couldn't rule out the possibility that Tim could die from blood loss; not to mention head trauma, too.

"Tony what happened?" Yelled Gibbs as he appeared besides Tony.

"I- I don't know, Boss. I came in here and I saw- he was about to kill himself, Boss."

Gibbs face was a mixture of both anger and fear. _Dammit, Tim! Why would you do that to yourself?_ Gibbs glanced at the bloody knife on the floor and rubbed his face in frustration.

"The ambulance is on it's way, Tony," Gibbs sighed as he watched his senior agent try and encourage the unconscious man to stay alive.

"It's okay, Probie, you're gonna be okay. Don't die on me, please!" Tony cried, cradling Tim in his arms. _Tim is going to be okay, he has to be!_

"Don't give him permission, Boss," sniffed Tony, not taking his eyes off McGee.

"What?"

"Don't give him permission to die."

"He'll never have permission, Tony."

"Good."

**Well? Did you like it? Kinda short but I can't wait to c what happens next even though I'm writing it! Reviews, reviews, reviews! Thanks :))**


	20. Hospital Again

**Chapter 20**

The ambulance ride was silent for a while. Everything was calm...everything except for Tony; he was pissed. How could Tim do that to himself? Tony had volunteered, or more so demanded that he go with McGee in the ambulance. Gibbs agreed and decided to stay behind and clean up. Then he would go to NCIS, deliver the news, and they would meet Tony at the hospital in half an hour. Tony watched his friend breathe in and out slowly, his breath fogging up the oxygen mask every time he exhaled. It kind of soothed him for a moment, knowing that Tim was alive and that he was going to be okay. It wasn't a choice: Tim was going to be okay, because Gibbs hadn't given him permission not to be. He held Tim's hand tightly in both fury and dread, hoping that it would wake him up. His wish came true when Tim's eyes fluttered open, the green eyes being unfocused and dull.

"Tim?" Asked Tony eagerly, hoping that his friend could hear him.

McGee looked over at him and instantly Tony could see the pain and worry through the sad looking eyes.

"It's okay, Tim. You're in an ambulance, you're safe now."

Tim just stared at him, looking almost...disappointed? Why the hell is he disappointed? _Because he wanted to kill himself and he failed, DiNozzo! Come on, get your head straight!_

"Come on, Probie, why did you have to try and kill yourself?"

He received no answer, but all of a sudden, the monitor started beeping rapidly. Tony's face drained of any leftover color as he looked over to the monitor. It was the sound he'd hope he'd never have to hear ever in his life, especially if it was coming from his little brother. He looked back to Tim and gasped; Tim was starting to convulse while his eyes were slowly rolling to the back of his head.

"He's going into V-FIB!" Yelled one paramedic.

"No. No, no, no. Dammit, Tim don't do this to me! Don't you dare die! Please don't give up, because I swear to god if you die I will _never_ forgive you!"

The monitor flat-lined and everything went into overdrive. Tears began to fall onto Tony's face as he watched the EMT's prepare to shock McGee's heart. He really prayed that it didn't have to come to this, but it was too late.

"Ready the paddles, now!"

"Dammit, McGee!" Cried Tony.

"Charge it to – wait, hold on."

"What do you mean "hold on?" Aren't you going to save him?" Shouted Tony angrily.

"He's coming back."

Tony looked up at the monitor and sure enough the flat tone of the display blipped weakly, easing both the paramedics and Tony's worries. Tony smiled a little, breathing slowly to calm his own heart down, and gently squeezing Tim's hand.

"That's it, buddy. Fight! Don't give up." Before he knew it, the vehicle stopped and the back doors opened.

"Moderate stab wound to the abdomen, severe head trauma, possible brain injury! We need to get him stitched up and stabilized before we can give him a CAT scan!"

Tony watched as the doctors and nurses yelled things, getting Tim prepped for surgery.

"Come on, hurry people!" Yelled a doctor who was obviously in charge. "he flat-lined once already, we don't need that happening again!"

Then, before Tim disappeared, Tony saw his friend's eyes open, looking around in confusion.

"Tim!" Tony yelled, but before McGee could find out where the voice was coming from, he vanished behind the double doors and down the hall. Tony just stood, frozen in his spot, wondering what had happened; it all happened so quick.

~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He woke up feeling so disoriented. A bright light shone in his face as he opened his eyes. As soon as the light met his pupils, he groaned, his head pounding in intense pain.

"_- head wound, abdomen pen-"_

Who were those people? Well, whoever they were he wished they would just stop talking.

"Where-"

"You're in the hospital, son. Don't worry, you're in good hands now."

"I don't- I don't want any..."

"What was that?"

"No visitors. I don' wan' vis't'rs."

"Okay, no visitors. We'll make sure to put that down."

Tim nodded sluggishly and he fell back into the world of unconsciousness.

~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~

** 2 days later**

Those smells: so familiar. Disinfectant, bleach, sterilizer... a hospital. _Again? Damn! His luck had definitely run out._

Tim opened his eyes and looked around the room. _I really need to stop getting hurt or this place is gonna become my permanent home. I may even break Tony's record of being in the hospital! And why does my head hurt so much, not to mention my side to?_ Then everything came back to him. He tried to commit suicide. Gibbs was going to have his- wait were was Gibbs? Where is everyone else for that matter? No coats, no cellphones, no empty coffee cups. Nothing. Tim looked down at his hands in sadness. So much for "being there for him" and "not being alone." Tim felt betrayed, but he didn't blame his team. The obviously hated him for what he did. He betrayed them, too. Not trusting in them. They're probably done trying to help him, because he wasn't worth is anymore. Tears threatened to fall, hanging on the edge of his eyelids.

"McGee?" Said a soft accented voice.

Tim looked up in surprise as he saw who was standing at the doorway.

"Ziva? What-what are you doing here?"

"I came to talk to you," she replied, coming closer to the bed.

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"Aren't you worried the team will hate you too once they know that you decided to visit me?"

"What are you talking about?" Ziva frowned.

"You guys must hate me right now...for what I did...or tried to do."  
>"Well, a little. We do not understand why you did it."<p>

"I-I couldn't take it anymore, Ziva. The voices were eating me from the inside out. I didn't know what to do and the voices were telling me to kill myself. I'm so sorry, and I don't care if that's a sign of weakness. I'm sorry and I hope you and everyone else can decide to forgive me someday."

"It's okay, Tim, the team...they will understand, they will forgive you. They have."

"Really?" Tim scoffed. "Then why aren't they here?"

"You don't remember? You told the doctors that you didn't want anyone visiting you."

"I said that? Well then how did you get in?"

"I have my ways," replied Ziva as she grinned.

Tim chuckled as he shook his head.

"I can't believe I said that. My thoughts were all jumbled and I think Harris was in control of me at that time, but I swear I didn't mean to say that. Can we lift the restriction?"

Ziva smiled and nodded. "I'll get a nurse."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~

"Really?"

"Yes, McGee just had the doctors lift the visitor restrictions."

"That's great! I'll tell Gibbs. Everyone is gonna be so happy!"

"Okay Abby, I'll see you in a little while."

"Alright, bye!"

Ziva hung up and put her phone away in her pocket as she turned to look at Tim through the window. She had been asked to leave the room for a moment for two reasons: one, because the doctor had to check Tim's vitals and two, she had to call the team and tell them that he'd woken up and allowed visitors again. She sighed sadly as she watched Tim answer endless questions from the doctor. He still looked so sad and ill. Why weren't the meds helping him? She really hated hospitals, always something negative came with them. Ziva smiled when she saw Tim grin at the doctor happily. Finally the doctor came to the door and she nodded to Ziva.

"He's all set, but he'll need another CAT scan and if nothing changed then he'll be able to go home tonight."

"Thank you," replied Ziva. And with that she went back inside the room. Tim looked exhausted and that was only from a few questions.

"Are you feeling alright, Tim?" She asked in concern.

Tim looked away from looking out the window and faced Ziva. "Yeah, I just feel so...stupid. I can't believe I actually tried to kill myself."

Ziva sighed as she walked over and sat next to Tim on his bed.

"It is alright, Tim. I know exactly how you feel."

"Really?"

"Yes. When I was held in hostage in Somalia I thought I was never going to rescued. I was scared...alone, and all I had to keep me company were the voice of...Micheal. At first his words were caring and comforting, but then they became words of hatred...accusation. After a while I began to believe them. I wanted desperately to be killed by Saleem. When you guys came, I wondered why; I wondered why you would bother to risk your lives for me. But then once I got home, I realized those words, those...voices were just that: voices. They were not real, they were not true and I remembered how much you all cared for me. I had a family...I still do and nothing could stop me from thinking that. Just like for you; you have people who love and care for you. The voices will go away you just need to stop thinking about them. Do not let them control you; you have to control the voices. Do not think you are alone, Tim. You are not, you have me, and you have the team to help you get through this, okay?"

Tim looked at her intently, processing all the words in his pounding head. Tears began to form in his eyes. He felt like he mattered and best of all, Ziva could relate to how he'd been feeling. Before he knew it, Ziva brought him into a gentle embrace.

"Thank you, Ziva," Tim whispered into her shoulder.

"You are very welcome, McGee."

"Awww look at the two lovebirds," said a voice behind them.

Ziva and Tim broke apart and looked towards the door. They both smiled and rolled their eyes when they realized who it was; but no one smiled bigger than Tim.

"Shut up, DiNozzo," said Ziva.

"I was just joking, Zee," grinned Tony. Then he sobered up and looked at Tim.

"I'm so, so sorry, Tony. I didn't mean to put you through that."

Silence. The without warning, Tony came over and hugged him tightly. Almost as tight as Abby's specialty hugs.

"Please don't do that again...ever."

"You have my word, Tony," McGee replied, his voice muffled by Tony's shirt. Tony pulled back and let everyone else see Tim.

"Ah!" Grumbled Tim as rubbed his now sore shoulder.

"Don't you ever scare me like that again, Timothy McGee!" Shouted Abby.

"I won't, I promise and I'm sorry that I did."

"Apology accepted," smiled Abby as she hugged Tim.

When it was Gibbs' turn, all was quiet...and awkward.

"If you ever do something as stupid as what you did ever again-"

"I won't, Boss. I know how you feel about apologies, but I'm sorry for doing what I did. It won't happen again.

"Good," Gibbs smiled and he squeezed Tim's shoulder. "It's good to see you awake. We thought you were going to be in a coma forever."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait. A coma? For how long?

"Two days, Probie. You were knocked out from when I...um...plowed into you and you hit your head on the counter."

"You saved me, Tony. I guess a coma is better than being dead, right?"

Everyone agreed as they began to visit with Tim. After Tim got another CAT and given the "all set," he was ready to go home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~

We're going to your house, aren't we, Boss," Tim sighed.

"You guessed right, Tim," grinned Gibbs as they turned another corner.

McGee groaned, but yawned in the middle of it. He was dead tired and the CAT scan had made his head feel worse, which caused him to feel nauseous. He looked out the window, trying to take his mind off the sickness. Finally, the car lurched to a stop and that was all it took to make Tim bolt out of the car and fall on his hands and knees on the grass, retching. He felt like he'd been heaving forever and he wanted to stop, but he couldn't. He was aware that someone had a gentle hand on his back, rubbing small circles on it.

"It's alright, Tim. Let it out," said an echoing voice. After a moment of dry heaving, having thrown up everything already, he wiped his mouth on his sleeve and sat back on his heels.

"Better?" Asked Gibbs.

"A little. Can we just got inside so I can go to sleep?"

"Of course." Gibbs helped McGee up and led him to the house and up into the guest room.

"C-can I have some water?"

Gibbs nodded as he left the room and came back in seconds with the water and a couple pills.

"One's for the pain and the other is for headache and nausea.

"Thanks, Boss," Tim said gratefully as he took the pills and downed the water in one gulp. Then he got into bed and under the covers.

"Thanks...um...thanks for everything, Boss. You and the team. I don't what I'd do without you guys."

"No problem, Tim. Just know that we got your back and that we'll get through this together."

Tim nodded and they sat in silence for a moment.

"I'm...ah... I'm going to have to see a psychiatrist aren't I, Boss."

Gibbs stayed quiet for a second then he spoke. "For a couple weeks. Once you talk to someone about all this, you'll feel a weight being lifted off your shoulders."

Tim nodded as he smiled sadly. "Okay." Tim yawned as he laid back on the pillows.

"Go to sleep, Tim."

"On it, Boss." Tim's eyes closed and he immediately fell asleep, exhausted from the events of the week and drowsy from the pills. Gibbs smiled as he got up and left the room. He took out his phone and dialed a number. It rang a couple times before a female voice spoke.

"Hello?"

"Rachel. It's Gibbs. You busy next Monday?"

**I absolutely love this story! Thanks for sticking with my story and the next chapter should come up soon. Next chapter: Tim is feeling a bit under the weather. Reviews are appreciated! :))**


	21. Under the Weather

**Chapter 21**

** Here's chapter 21. The next chapter I promise will be with Rachel in it and I can't wait to write that part! This chapter will probably be short anyways, so enjoy and don't forget to review :)**

_"Mommy, I wanna go outside!"_

_ "Alright, Timothy, hold on,"_ laughed a women as she wiped her hand on a dish towel and made her way to the door. _"Let's get your shoes on first, honey."_

_ "I know how to do it myself, mommy."_

_ "Oh, you do? Lets see then."_

_ Six year old Tim took his shoes and began to put them on. The left shoe on his left foot and the right shoe on his right foot. Then he tied both of them by himself, making his mother proud._

_ "...Around the bunny ear, through the loop and pull tight. All done!"_

_ "Good job, Tim! Oh, I'm so proud of you!" His mother said as she kissed him on the forehead._

_ "Thanks, mommy! Can I go outside now?"_

_ "Of course." Tim's mom opened the door and patted little Timothy on the butt._

_ "Go out and explore, my little adventurer."_

_ "I will!"_

_**10 minutes later**_

****_"Mommy, Mommy! It hurts!" Tim cried as he ran inside._

_ "What happened, Tim? Are you okay?"_

_ "My- my arm hurts mommy! It's stinging!"_

_ "How did that happen, sweetie?"_

_ "I was- I was playing ball in the yard and it went into a big bush. I went to go get it and I tripped. I fell into a bug nest," whimpered Tim as his mom wiped his tears._

_ "Bees? Did you get stung by a bee, honey?"_

_ "N-no they were smaller and had a little stick for a face. They buzzed all over me and they pricked me, mommy!"_

_ "Oh, honey, you got bit by mosquitoes? Here, let me see your arm." Tim held out his arm and his mother looked at it. It was angry red with bumps scattered up and down; scratch marks could be seen covering them, little spots of blood seeping out from them._

_ "Did you scratch them?"_

_ "It was itchy, mommy."_

_ "Oh, sweetie. Come on lets go get some stuff for it."_

_ "Okay." With that, Tim's mother led Tim to the bathroom and sat him down on the counter._

_ "I'll be right back, and no itching." She left the room, leaving Tim alone with only the thought of scratching the bug bites nagging his thoughts. He knew he shouldn't but it itched so bad. He looked out the bathroom door, making sure his mother wasn't coming, then he began to scratch and scratch and scratch. He scratched so much, the blood flow became larger and his own skin was going underneath his fingernails. He knew it wasn't a good thing, but it feel so good to scratch the horrid bug bites. Once he began he couldn't stop; he scratched one area and then another area on his arm would begin itching again. He scratched harder and harder, his arm hurting with each stroke. He couldn't stop...couldn't stop...couldn't stop..._

It was the sound of coughing and groaning alerted Gibbs' attention. He was surprised, with his age, that he could hear it all the way from the basement, but he wasted no time lingering, and he bounded upstairs to see what was wrong. He turned on the hallway light and made his way into McGee's room. He could immediately feel the heat radiating off Tim's body and a thick layer of sweat coated McGee's pain filled face and made his t-shirt stick to his sweaty body. Gibbs sighed as he walked over to Tim's side, and once he did he frowned in sympathy. Tim was scratching his arm unconsciously in his sleep and it wasn't doing him any good. His arm was red hot to the touch while blood was dripping onto the sheets.

"Tim," Gibbs whispered loudly as he shook McGee's shoulder. "McGee wake up."

Nothing. All Tim did was whimper and was vaguely unaware of what was going on. Gibbs grabbed Tim's wrist to stop him from ripping off his skin and then began calling his name again.

"Tim wake up!" He said louder.

Suddenly, Tim's eyes flew open and Gibbs saw the familiar look in them and he immediately grabbed the nearest trashcan and gave it to McGee. He waited and listened as Tim puked into the trashcan, the smell of bile filling the room. Gibbs scrunched his nose in disgust and sadness. He really hated to see Tim go through all of this. Why, all of a sudden, had he become so sick? Gibbs sighed as he patted Tim gently on the back and got up from the bed, taking out his phone.

"Ducky. I need you over here, something's wrong with Tim."

_"Oh, dear. I'll be right over, Jethro."_

Gibbs hung up and he went back over to the bed. By now, Tim had stopped heaving, only to begin coughing and sputtering, trying to get his breath back.

"You're alright, Tim. The worst has passed," he said as he passed Tim a cup of water. McGee gratefully took it in his shaky grip and gulped it slowly. When he finished, Gibbs took the cup and placed it back on the nightstand. He rubbed Tim's back as he laid back down, curling into a ball on his side.

"I-I don't- I don't feel so good, Boss," Tim shivered as he stared into space with a blank expression in his tired eyes.

"I know, Tim. Ducky will be here soon."

Tim nodded groggily as he gulped loudly. "My arm...it's burning."

"You were scratching it in your sleep. Nearly ripped your skin off."

Tim smiled a little, but it disappeared as quick as it came once he began to cough harshly.

"I'll get you some more water and a couple of wet washcloths."

"T-thanks, Boss."

Gibbs left the room to get the supplies he needed: A couple of water bottles, some wet washcloths, clean sheets, and another shirt. He went back into the room and saw that Tim had kicked off the bedspread, which was now on the ground. Tim saw him and he smiled sheepishly.

"I got hot...but now I'm cold again."

Gibbs smirked as he shook his head. "Well, I'm going to change the sheets anyways. Can you get up?"

"I think so." Tim swung his legs over the bed and sat up. He waited for the head rush to pass then he lifted himself up shakily and stood.

"You look like you're about to keel over. You can sit in that armchair and wait. While you do," Gibbs tossed Tim a shirt, "You can change out of that sweat soaked shirt."

Tim nodded as he peeled off the sweaty shirt and put on the new one. Then he sat back in the chair and waited for Gibbs to finish changing the sheets. But he was getting tired; his eyelids becoming heavier every time he blinked. He couldn't stay awake any longer and he let himself be taken by sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~

"It looks like he passed out or he's really tired."

"Lets take a look then, shall we?"

Ducky made his way over to the chair where the slumbering agent was curled up on. Ducky sighed sadly as he took in Tim's appearance. He was pale and sweaty, his breathing coming in short breaths and his forehead scrunched in agitation.

"Oh, Timothy," he said as he took out a penlight and a thermometer. Ducky took the light and lifted Tim's eyelid. As soon as he put the light on Tim's eyes, McGee jerked away suddenly, wondering what had just blinded him.

"Ah, welcome back to the world of the living, Timothy. How are you feeling?"

"Ugh. I feel like shit, Ducky. My head hurts, my stomach hurts and my arm is burning."

"Well, I do apologize for the light, Timothy and I'm sure Jethro has something for your arm."

Ducky took out the thermometer and told Tim to open his mouth so he could check his temperature. When the device beeped, Ducky clucked in disapproval when the temperature showed up on the screen.

"103.5. Dear god, Timothy, you're like a radiator. Any higher and you'll have to go back to the-"

"No, not the hospital. I don't want to go back there ever again unless I'm an inch away from dying."

"It's not a choice, Tim. You could die from heatstroke from the fever...but we'll do everything to try and get it down."

Tim nodded as he yawned.

"Well, I advise lots of fluids and lots of sleep for you, Timothy."

"Okay," Tim said groggily as he got up and made his way back to the bed. He plopped down and fell back on the pillows. Instantaneously, he fell asleep, his snores filling the silent room. Gibbs took the wet clothes and placed one on Tim's forehead. Then he took Tim's limp, red arm and patted down the blood. Then he wrapped the two cloths around Tim's arm, hoping that it would soothe both the itchiness and burning.

"Is he going to be okay, Duck?"

"Absolutely, Jethro. It's just a little post CAT scan and surgery sickness; It'll pass soon enough. I'm more worried about his fever, though. Make sure he has lots of cold cloths on him so we can get the fever down to a more safer temperature."

"Okay, thanks Duck."

"Not a problem, my dear friend," Ducky said as he patted Gibbs shoulder and made his way back downstairs. "Feel free to call me if anything changes."

"Alright. Goodnight, Duck.

"Night, Jethro."

Gibbs shut the door behind Ducky and then he went back upstairs to make sure Tim was comfortable. He saw Tim was sleeping soundlessly, his facade calm and peaceful. Gibbs smiled, it was finally good to see that Tim was at ease. He left Tim to sleep in peace, walked out of the room and back downstairs.

**18 hours later**

"Hey, Boss, where's McGeek?" Tony asked as he sat down at the table. He'd come over to Gibbs' house, because he didn't want to be by himself at home yet, but the truth was he wanted to see how Tim was doing.

"Sleeping." Gibbs said simply.

"Sleeping? At," Tony looked down at his watch, frowning, "Five in the afternoon?"

"He was up half the night, Tony, being sick. He's lucky enough, though, that he's fever broke and he doesn't have to go back to the hospital."

"It was close to being that bad?"

"Yep."

"Wow."

…...

"So is...uh...is Probie seeing a psychiatrist, Boss?"

"Yeah. I got him scheduled for Monday with Rachel."

"Kate's sister? Does he know that? That she's Kate's sister, that is?"

"No, but he's smart. You figured it out, so he will soon enough."

"That's good- wait, your calling me smart?"

Gibbs grunted as he smirked.

"Thanks...I think," Tony grinned.

**Ugh that was a bad chapter, well I still hope you like it. Next chapter: You get to see Rachel! :) Time for Tim to see a psychiatrist. Don't forget the reviews! Thanks :)**


	22. Talk ISNT Cheap

**Chapter 22**

**Hey everyone how's it going? Sorry for the looonng wait, its just that I got writers block then I had school and work and... well you know what I mean. But now I'm back and here's chapter 22 for ya! Enjoy and don't forget to review! :)**

Tony and Gibbs have been playing chess for nearly three hours and there was not one sound from the younger agent. Gibbs, earlier, had figured that since Tim was sick he'd be sleeping for awhile, but it had been 21 hours and Tim had slept almost a day. He would of thought he'd hear coughing or puking at the most, but no, there was nothing but silence. Tony had been aware of this also and he too was getting a bit worried.

"Don't you think we should check on him, Boss? He sounds more like he's dead than sleeping."

Gibbs looked at him in concern, then both their eyes widened in fear. They never thought of that.

"I'll go," said Tony getting up from the couch.

"DiNozzo-"

"I have to, Boss."

Gibbs sighed and nodded as Tony made his way to the stairs. He slowly climbed the stairs and to Tim's room.

"Probie, rise and shine," he grinned as he walked over to the bed.

Nothing.

"Tim!" Tony shouted as he began to shake Tim's shoulder. That's when he saw Tim's face. Tony's smile dropped as he shook his head in disbelief. Tim's face was stark white besides his eyelids and lips, which were purple.

"No," whispered Tony in shock. He shakily reached for Tim's neck, feeling for a pulse. He found none. "No, no, no, no, no! Boss!" Tony shouted as he dragged Tim's limp body to the ground, beginning CPR.

"DiNozzo, what- ah, hell."

"Call an ambulance!" Yelled Tony frantically.

Gibbs just stood in the doorway, defeat on his face.

"Gibbs!"

"It's too late, Tony. He's been up here all day, who knows how long he's been dead."

"No, it's not too late! Call a damn ambulance!"

"Tony, stop. He's gone."

"No!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~

"No!" Tony shouted as he shot up from the couch.

"Tony! You're okay, it was just a nightmare."

"I have to see him, Boss. I need to see if he's okay. Is he still upstairs?"

"Yeah, I checked on him an hour ago, he's fine."  
>"No, I need to see him for myself."<p>

"Alright. Go."

Tony got up shakily, finally glad to be rid of the crutches, and went upstairs, dread bubbling at the pit of his stomach. _Gibbs checked on him an hour ago, but a lot can happen in one hour._ Tony moved quickly but cautiously into McGee's room. He saw the lump in the bed covered by a pile of blankets, but it wasn't moving. Tony's heart beat painfully against his chest, fearing the worse.

"Probie?" He whispered as he approached the bed. He pulled the covers away from McGee's face and sighed in relief. Even though Tim's face was pale and sweaty, his lips were still pink and he was still breathing. He closed his eyes and took a moment to compose himself. That dream had felt so real.

"Tony?" A weak voice jolted him out of his thoughts.

"Hey, Probie," Tony replied, looking at McGee whose eyes were still closed.

"What are you doing here?" Tim said, slowly opening his eyes.

"Nothing. Just checking up on you."

"Oh, okay," Tim yawned as his eyes slid back closed.

"Go back to sleep, kid."

"Hm," was all he got for a reply. Tony smiled as he made his way to the door.

"Are you okay?" Tim asked all of a sudden.

Tony stopped in his tracks, but didn't turn around.

"I am now, Probie."

"Okay...just checking," Tim replied sleepily and he fell back into a deep sleep.

Tony sighed as he went back downstairs and sat on the couch, rubbing his face in exhaustion.

"How is he?" Gibbs asked coming from the kitchen with two cups of coffee, giving one to Tony, then sitting down.

"He's still pale, but I guess sleeping is the best for him right now."

"He'll be okay, Tony. McGee's tough."

"I know, Boss."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For the next few days, Tim's health progressed and he slept less and less everyday until he was sleeping like the average human once again. He also began to eat more, smile more, and joke around more. Soon, Monday came.

"Are you ready, Tim?"

"Not really...but if this is going to help me get better, then I guess I have no choice."

"You'll be fine. Rachel is a good listener, it's what she does."

"Yeah, you're right. Well, here it goes."

"I'll be back in an hour."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hello, Tim. It's good to see you again."

"Likewise, Dr. Cranston."

"Please, call me Rachel," Dr. Cranston smiled as she had Tim sit down and she sat across from him.

"How are you doing today? I understand a lot has happened within the last three weeks; do you want to talk about it?"

Tim sighed as he looked at Rachel.

"You can trust me, Tim. This isn't an evaluation like the last time. I'm here for you and everything you say is for yours and my ears only."

"Alright. It started with a crime scene a few Mondays ago..."

Tim unleashed all that had happened to him during the past month, and truth was, with every word he said, he was feeling a bit better.

"Well, it sounds like you have some very caring teammates, Tim."

"Yeah, I don't know what would of happened if I didn't have them."

Rachel nodded as she jotted down a couple things on her notepad and then she closed it.

"Okay, Tim that's it for today."

"Really? That went by fast."

Rachel chuckled as she got up, Tim doing the same.

"It was nice to see you again, Timothy," Rachel said shaking hands with him, but he didn't say anything; He just looked at her suspiciously.

"Is something wrong?" She asked.

"You look...familiar, besides from seeing you before. You remind me of someone." Tim saw something flash in Rachel's eyes, but he couldn't quite figure what it was. Then, suddenly, he noticed; Rachel's eyes, they looked almost like...

"A-are you Kate Todd's sister?"

"Yes, I am."

"Wow. I- I didn't- I never knew. I'm really sorry about what happened; Kate she was like an older sister to me."

Rachel smiled at him. "Yeah she could act that way even though I'm the older one."

Tim laughed. "Well, thanks, again, Rachel for everything."

"You're very welcome, Tim, and I'll be seeing you Wednesday."

"Okay, bye."

When Tim left the room and went outside the building, he let out a breath he didn't even know he'd been holding. He couldn't believe he had met Kate's sister and didn't even know until now. Well, he had been trying to avoid her the last time they met. But now that he actually looked at her, it was just strange; what was stranger was that he felt something spark when he looked at her, and this was before he knew she was Kate's sister. Was he liking Rachel? H couldn't do that, she was his psychiatrist! But she had asked if he had a girlfriend, once when she was evaluating him- which probably( at first) meant nothing, and again today. When she asked him and he said no, he saw something light up in her eyes. Did she like him too? Suddenly he felt someone tap his shoulder and he gasped, jumping away.

"Relax, Tim, it's just me."

_Oh, it was only Gibbs._

"Are you alright? You looked like you zoned out for a moment there."

"Oh. No, I was just thinking. Letting my brain get caught up with the session."

"How did it go?"

"It was good. I'm feeling a lot better now, and did you know that she's Kate's sister?"

Gibbs smirked as the two walked to the car. "You ready to go home?"

"You mean home, home? As in my house?"

Gibbs smiled and nodded. Tim grinned as he got inside the car. Of course he was ready to go home. He missed his bed, his typewriter, his computers, everything. It's not like he didn't appreciate Gibbs' hospitality, but he's been there for almost two weeks and he really needed a change of scenery. In an hour, he was back at his apartment. Someone was going to have to stay with him from time to time, but he didn't care. As long as he was there.

"Home sweet home."

**Well how was it? I need to ask you guys a quick question: Do you think Rachel and Tim should date, because I'm having a hard time deciding if I should put them together or not and I don't want to make you stop reading if I put the wrong thing in the story. Let me know your opinions and I'll get started on the next chapter. In the meanwhile, don't forget to review! :P Thanks! :)**


	23. They're Baaack

**Chapter 23**

He was bored out of his mind. Sure he'd only been home for a day, but he had _nothing_ to do. He couldn't write, because even given all that had happened, he didn't want to write about it. He didn't want to relive the nightmares. He had attempted to play some computer games, but, for once, it became boring and tiring. He also had no one to talk to since Tony wasn't coming to visit him until after work. All he could do was sit around and mope; not even watching TV could take his mind off the excruciating boredom. Tim looked up at his wall clock and huffed in aggravation. _12:32 pm._ Tony was coming after work and after work meant around 8 o' clock; that was seven hours away. It was weird that he wanted Tony to come over, because half the time, he annoyed the shit out of him. But strangely, he was good company when Tim had been feeling depressed or hurt during the past few weeks. _God! Why couldn't the time move any faster? Maybe sleep would kill the time, but he wasn't even that tired._

Tim sighed heavily as he lifted himself off the couch, turned off the TV and trudged to the bedroom. It had felt like an eternity since he'd slept in his own bed, and just looking at it: the thick warm comforters and the nice crisp sheets just called to him. Tim smiled wearily as the insomnia instantly disappeared and it was quickly replaced with pure exhaustion. _Why, all of a sudden, am I so tired?_ He slowly made his way to the bed and fell onto the sheets, not even bothering to get under the blankets. Tim grasped his refreshing pillow tightly and he instantly began to drift off. He just prayed that the nightmares wouldn't come back to haunt him. For a while they'd been gone, but that was because he was either drugged up on meds or his fevered mind was too fuzzy to think straight. Now, though, that he was healthy and alert, they could possibly return. He shivered in fear, but decided to brush it off and see what happens and after he felt somewhat relaxed, Tim drifted off into an agitated sleep.

~~~~~~~~~N~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~C~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~I~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~S~~~~~~

_I really hope that Probie hasn't gone crazy yet. I don't think I could handle a crazy Probie. _Tony walked up the stairs and down the hall to Tim's apartment. If Tim had lost it already, he wouldn't blame him; he knew the consequences of being stuck in an apartment for a week, because he was usually the one who got hurt the most. Some would think it would be great: not having to go to work for seven days, laying back and relaxing, sleeping in, etc, but it wasn't all fun and games. It could be boring as hell!

Finally, Tony reached apartment number three and knocked gently on the wooded door. 60 seconds and no answer. He knocked again, but louder, not giving a damn if it annoyed the neighbors. Still no response. Now he was getting upset. Something wasn't right. Different scenarios played through his head as to why Tim wasn't answering him. _Maybe he went so crazy he killed himself. Maybe Rinnert had other guys looking for Tim. _

"Probie! Open the door!" Tony shouted frantically, trying not to think the worse. Still nothing.

"McGee, come on buddy, open up!" Silence...again. That's it; time to start breaking down some doors.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~

_Knock, Knock, Knock, Knock._

_ What the hell was that noise?_

_ Knock, Knock, Knock, Knock!_

_ Whatever it was, he wished it would just stop so he could sleep._

_ …_

_ Finally._

_ Knock, Knock, Knock!_

_ Never mind._

"Probie, open the door!"

_ Well, Tony's obviously here. Wow he's been sleeping for seven hours already?_

"McGee, come on buddy, open up!"

_Ugh._ Tim slowly dragged himself out of bed and blindly made his way through his apartment. He almost decided to fall back asleep and ignore his partner, but he knew Tony was persistent and wouldn't stop bothering him until he got an answer.

"Probie, if you don't open this door right now, I'm gonna kick it open!"

"Stop yelling, Tony," Tim groaned as he opened the door.

"Oh, hey, finally! Wow you just looked like you rolled out of bed, McSleepyhead," Tony grinned Tony as he stepped inside.

"That's because I did," Tim said flatly.

"Oh...sorry," said Tony, setting his stuff down as Tim shut the door.

"How long were you out there?" Asked Tim as he wiped the sleep out of his eyes and yawned.

"Six minutes. I almost considered breaking down your door if you took any longer."

"I know, I heard you...and I was sleeping."

"Whatever. Lose your mind yet?" Chuckled Tony as he went into the kitchen to rummage through McGee's fridge.

Tim rolled his eyes in annoyance. As much as he wanted someone to talk to, right now he wasn't in the mood to talk to Tony; earlier he had, but that was earlier. He just wanted to go back to bed. For some reason, he'd been feeling really exhausted lately and had no idea what was wrong. He'd been sleeping fine, had no more nightmares- at least that's what he thought- and he wasn't feeling sick anymore, but maybe-

"Tim?" Tony's concern laced voice cut into his thoughts.

Tim blinked repeatedly for a moment before returning his gaze to Tony. He was standing by the open fridge with two cans of beer in his hands.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, fine," muttered McGee as he went into the living room and laid back in the retractable chair and closed his eyes.

"No you're not," Tony said out of nowhere.

McGee cracked an eye open and saw that Tony was standing in the doorway looking at him skeptically. Tim snorted as he shut his eye to block out Tony's face.

"What do you want me to tell you?" McGee said angrily. But as soon as he said it, he felt guilty and opened his eyes to see how Tony had reacted. Tim sighed as he saw the hurt in Tony's eyes and knew that he just screwed up.

"I'm sorry, Tony, I didn't mean to yell at you. I just...I'm just really tired and I don't...I don't really know anymore. I don't want you to think that I'm mad at you; I know you're just trying to help."

Tony smiled sadly. "It's alright, I know you're probably sick of being locked up in a confined space for a week, let alone a day. Trust me, I know how it feels since I get hurt all the time."

Tim smiled a little at that as Tony passed him a beer and sat down on the couch. "So...how was your session with _Rachel_?"

Tim frowned in confusion at Tony; the way he said his therapist's name sounded like he was insinuating something. "Good. I'm feeling a lot better now."

"Speaking of feeling better, how about the nightmares; have you had any lately?"

"I...I don't know," whispered McGee.

"You don't know? What do you mean you don't know? How can you not know if you have nightmares?"

"I just don't know, Tony, okay! I-I've been sleeping, but every time I wake up, I feel more exhausted than ever."

"Hmm. Sleepwalking?" Suggested Tony as he cracked the beer can open and took a sip.

"Maybe."

"Well why don't I stay the night and see what happens."

Tim looked at Tony for a second before nodding and opening his beer also. "Okay. Thanks."

"No problem."

**Three hours later**

"I'm just gonna come out and say this: Do you like her?"

Tim's forehead furrowed, baffled at the question. "Like who?" But he had a feeling who Tony was talking about.

"You know who?" Tony grinned, wiggling his eyebrows.

"No. No I don't 'know who'"

"Rachel, McClueless," sighed Tony.

"No I-I don't," Tim said, clearing his throat.

"Why not?" Whined DiNozzo.

"One: she's my _therapist_ and it would be a bit awkward, don't you think. Two: she's Kate's sister and I don't think she would approve and-"

"Of course Kate would approve. Who wouldn't want their sister to date a McGeek?"

"Shut it," Tim warned as he yawned and began to drift off. "And three, since I wasn't finished, she _married_ hence the last name Cranston and not Todd."

"Oh. Well I guess you can still 'high school crush,' right?"

"..."

"McGoo?"

"Mhmm, I guess."

"Alright, it's bedtime," Tony said getting up and stretching. He walked over to the half-asleep Tim and shook him awake.

"Come on McProbius, I'm not gonna carry you."

"I'm not that heavy," mumbled Tim, his eyes still closed.

Tony sighed. "Well I'll help you up, but I'm still not carrying you."

"Wh't'v'r."

When Tony lifted McGee off the couch, he was shocked and a bit concerned. Tim was unusually light and something was off. He couldn't rule out the possibility that Tim _hadn't _been sleeping well or eating. He would see later on tonight why Tim felt so bad. The two stumbled out of the living room into the kitchen and to McGee's bedroom. When Tony dropped Tim onto his bed, McGee immediately turned over and curled up into a ball. Tony smiled at this as he took a blanket from a nearby chair and placed it over McGee and up over his shoulders.

"Night, Probie," whispered Tony as he pat Tim's back. Now all he had to do was wait.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_**Hi, again, McGee**_

___I thought- I thought these were over._

_**They are...somewhat. Every morning when you wake up, you'll have known that you've had a nightmare, but you won't remember what they were about. Therefore you can't tell anyone what they're about and no one can help you...ever. Not even that bitch therapist, Rachel. You'll be feeling more deteriorated than ever. Your appetite will disappear and before you know it, you'll be withering away like a dying flower.**_

___Please just leave me alone, you've hurt me enough already._

_**No I haven't. Nothing that I've done to you will **_**ever**_** measure up to what you put me through. Now you'll pay the price.**_

___No, no, no, please stop! This is too much! _

Tony jerked awake from the uncomfortable position on the couch. _Not the best place to sleep._ He cracked his neck as he looked around the dimly lit room. Why did he wake up again? Oh yeah, he was suppose to be watching to see what was wrong with Tim. Tony got up and walked slowly to McGee's bedroom. It was quiet in there and he thought that maybe Tim was just exhausted because...well he didn't have another reason, but there had to be one. He opened the door quietly, afraid that he might wake McGee up, and he stepped inside. What he expected to see was McGee still curled up on his side, sleeping away without any problems, but instead he saw something else. Tim's bed was empty and the sheets were crumpled and on the ground. Tony's breathing quickened as he frantically went into the bathroom and hoped that Tim might be taking a shower or getting water. Anything. But his anticipations were dashed when he saw that the bathroom was empty also.

"Crap!" Tony shouted as he left the bathroom and searched throughout the rest of the apartment. Nothing. "Tim! Where are you buddy?"

Tony sighed in frustration as he ran a hand through his hair; he was supposed to be watching the junior agent, but instead he fell asleep on the job. He always told McGee to never fall asleep on the job, but him, the senior agent, disregarded his own rule and did just that.

"Dammit!" Tony dug out his phone and pressed the speed dial number one. "Boss, we've got a _huge_ problem."

**A/N: Ugh this chapter was kinda blah, but I needed to get something up soon so I wouldn't disappoint you. So for the next couple chapters this is what I'm gonna do: you know how some people have one of those weeks/months where one day feels like nothing bad is going to happen, that everything is finally okay, but then a day or two after, everything goes downhill again? That's what will/has kinda happen/ed to Tim and the gang, just not as much, because I don't want to bore you will the same thing over and over again by doing an up chapter and a down chapter and up and down etc... So if you have any ideas of what I should do next, because I love ****my readers and I want to hear from you and I want you to be happy with what you're reading :)) SO... in your reviews( hopefully I get a lot :)) or message me and let me know! :)))) Thanks! 3 you guys!**


	24. Sleepwalker

**Chapter 24**

"How did this happen, DiNozzo?" Gibbs shouted.

"I-I don't know, I guess I fell asleep for a while and the next thing I know, he's gone!"

"Where do you think he would have gone, Gibbs?" Asked Ziva worriedly.

"I don't know," breathed Gibbs as he ran a nervous hand through his hair. "But we're gonna find him."

"And how do you figure that? How do you even know when Tim left, because I know I don't!" Tony screamed, still pacing the floor anxiously.

Gibbs huffed as he went over to Tony and slapped him in the back of the head. Immediately, Tony stopped and looked his boss in the eye.

"When did you fall asleep?" Ziva asked slowly from besides Gibbs.

Tony groaned as he tried so hard to remember. After a couple of moments, the light-bulb in his head lit up.

"It was 11:30. I remember, because Tim was getting drowsy around eleven, and it took about five minutes to put him to bed. Then I came back here to finish watching Amityville Horror, but I remember falling asleep around at the part where the guy was getting knock off the house by-"

"Okay, Tony we get it. So we have a time period of...four hours," Ziva said dejectedly.

"Don't worry," Ducky began, "Sleepwalkers don't tend to go very fast, even if they don't know what they're doing. I suggest we start looking within a 20 mile radius."

"And Ducky saves the day!" Grinned Tony, happy that they were at least getting somewhere.

"Yeah well the day isn't saved until we find McGee, hopefully unharmed," stated Gibbs. "Duck, you're with me. Ziva call up Abby and Palmer, go pick them up and tell them what happened. Tony...stay here in case he comes back."

Tony nodded as he watched the rest of the team leave the apartment for the search for McGee. He just really hoped that they weren't too late; who knows how much trouble Tim could have gotten into.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Where do you think he could have gone, Jethro?" Ducky inquired as he looked out his window for any sign of the young agent.

"I can't really say, but my gut is telling me empty allies and streets."

"I just hope we find him before he gets hurt."

"Me too, Duck. Me too."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"How the hell could this have happened? Why wasn't anyone with him?"

"Tony was watching him, Abby," replied Ziva as she turned another corner.

"Well, he didn't watch him good enough! Timmy could get hurt, he could die, he could-"

"Abby! Calm down, he's not going to die!" Ziva shouted angrily to get through to the over-emotional goth.

"How do you know that?"

"..."

"Exactly."

"We'll find him, Abby, don't worry."

"I hope you're right," grumbled Abby as she continued to look out the window. She was still pretty pissed that Tony fell asleep and let Tim leave.

Jimmy just sat quietly in the back, looking out the window, hoping that he would see McGee somewhere. Even though they weren't close, the team was family and he didn't want to lose another one; Kate was already too much.

~~~~~~~~~~~~N~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~C~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~I~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~S~~~~~~~~~

"Still nothing, Jethro."

"He's out here somewhere, Duck." Gibbs said flatly as he turned another corner and drove down another street. A little ways down the road, the headlights shone on a lanky figure walking slowly away from them, and thankfully on the sidewalk.

"There he is!" Shouted Gibbs, screeching the car to a stop and jumping out of the car, Ducky not far behind. Gibbs ran up to Tim, about to grab the agent's shoulders to wake him up, but he suddenly felt a restraining hand grab his arm and pull him back.

"We can't wake him, Jethro, it's dangerous to disturb a sleepwalking person," Ducky stated as he and Gibbs continued to follow the slow walking agent.

"Then what are we supposed to do? We can't just leave him like this!"

Ducky sighed in thought and he went besides Tim and evaluated him. The young agent's arms were limp by his side, his head was cocked to the left and his eyes were glazed over, looking ahead but unseeing. Ducky knew that this was a risky thing to do, but he carefully and gently placed two hands on Tim's shoulder.

"Timothy?" Ducky said cautiously. "Timothy, I'm going to turn you around and we're going to take you home, alright?" As expected, he received no response, but he turned McGee around with ease and towards the awaiting car. Gibbs followed closely behind, watching for an unusual signs. When they reached the car, Ducky gently pushed McGee inside and then got in the backseat himself. Gibbs sat in the driver's seat and pulled out his cellphone and quickly dialed a well-known number.

"Ziva, we got him. Meet us back at Tim's and call Tony to tell him the news." When he heard the reply from Ziva, he closed his phone and began to drive back where they came from.

"How is he?" Asked Gibbs as he heard Tim moaning, but still keeping his eyes focused on the road.

"He seems to be uninjur- wait a minute, what's this?"

"What?" Gibbs said with concern.

"It seems to me like Timothy got into a fight of some sort, or he punched something at least. His knuckles are bloody and scratched. I also can't rule out the possibility that his feet may be a little cut, too," Ducky replied, assessing Tim who was still staring blankly ahead.

Gibbs shook his head as he pulled up in the parking lot of McGee's building complex. The two carefully removed Tim from the car, led him upstairs and into the apartment.

"Timmy! I'm so glad you're okay!" Screeched Abby as she ran towards Tim for one of her specialty hugs.

"No, Abby," said Gibbs sternly as he let go of Tim's arm and prevented Abby from touching the agent.

"What? Why?" She asked, her smile disappearing.

"He's sleepwalking, my dear, and if you wake him up the wrong way, he could get violent," Ducky told her calmly.

Abby's shoulders slumped and she nodded quietly, letting Tim and Ducky pass. When they reached the living room, Tony's face eased and he came up to them.

"Tim, where the hell did you go? You had me so-"

"Anthony, he can't hear you, he's sleepwalking."

"Then come on! Let's wake him up already."

"No, we all could get hurt," said Gibbs.

Tony frowned as he watched Ducky help Tim sit down on the couch.

"So what do we do now?" Asked Ziva.

"We have to do this procedure carefully or if we don't there could be serious consequences. But first there must be a reason why he's doing this." Ducky thought for a moment, then he decided that it was the only way. It was going to be against his own rules and it was extremely risky. He had to feel Tim's forehead to see if there was a fever involved in this. Slowly, Ducky placed a hand on Tim's head, and for a moment nothing happened. Then, without warning, Tim gasped and stood up, pushing Ducky to the floor.

"Please, please don't!" Whimpered Tim.

Abby, Ziva, and Palmer stood away from Tim, huddled in a corner and utterly shocked.

"Grab him!" Yelled Gibbs as he and Tony went for Tim who was breathing harshly and looking around frenziedly. As soon as they neared, Tim dodged their grasps and ran to the kitchen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**McGee's Nightmare**

He was getting closer and he had to find a way out of here. But there was no way out. He was trapped in his own apartment; no windows, no doors, not even a vent to escape out of. McGee looked back at Harris and saw that he had magically doubled.

"What the hell?" He whispered.

Both Harris' just grinned evilly as they came closer. Just as they lunged at him, McGee cleverly jumped out of the way and ran into the kitchen.

"Way to go McGee, what did you expect to accomplish in here?" Tim muttered to himself. He turned around and sure enough, the Harris' were right behind him.

"Leave me alone!" He cried as he backed away from them. He looked around for a weapon, anything that could give him more time. When he looked to his right, he saw a large pan hanging from a hook. Thinking fast, he snatched it and instantly threw it at one of the Harris', hitting him in the head. Thankfully, he fell to the ground, out cold, causing McGee to smile at his achievement. But suddenly, to his horror, another one appeared out of thin air.

"No," he whispered. Before he knew it, he was stopped by the wall behind him. He was a goner; there was no way out of this. Why did it have to end this way? Tim squeezed his eyes shut and waited for death to come.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~N~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~C~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~I~~~~~~~~~~~~~S~~

Gibbs watched as Tim frighteningly backed away from them. He was afraid of them.

"Leave me alone!" Tim shouted. Then, before he could do anything else, Tim grabbed a pan from the wall and chucked it at Tony. Immediately, Tony fell to the ground, groaning in pain as he clutched his now throbbing head. Gibbs frowned as he looked back at the trembling Tim. His face was full of different emotions: fear, pain, elation, confusion, and violence. Suddenly, Ducky appeared beside him, clearly recovered from Tim's shove. When Tim saw this, though, all Gibbs could see in his eyes was horror.

"Arms or legs, Jethro?" Breathed Ducky.

"You take his legs," Gibbs stated. They backed Tim up until he was helplessly cornered. They felt bad about this, but there was no other way to get him to stop. McGee's breathing was becoming erratic and sweat dripped down his forehead; Tim had finally realized that he had to give up and he closed his eyes tightly. By the count of three, the two hurtled at McGee, Gibbs grabbed Tim's arms and pinning them down to his side and Ducky holding down Tim's legs. In the background, they heard Abby sniffing loudly and Ziva helping an injured Tony up and into a chair. Gibbs looked sadly at Tim who was struggling in his grip, sobbing violently as tears flowed out onto his pale face.

"It's gonna be okay, Tim. It's gonna be okay," Gibbs whispered reassuringly.

Finally, after watching Tim writhe in their grip for ten minutes, Tim eventually grew tired and went limp, passing out from exhaustion. Gibbs released a huge breath, relieve that it was over. He lay a soft hand on Tim's forehead and ran it through his sweaty hair.

"What's going on Duck?"

"I'm afraid, Jethro, that he's getting worse."

** Well I hope you liked that chapter. What's going to happen to Tim? Don't worry, he will get through this and it will all be over. Reviews are much appreciated, thanks, and the next chapter will come soon. :)**


	25. What Do We Do Now?

**Chapter 25**

**Hi again! Sorry for the long wait :) Thanks for all the reviews and story alerts. Hope you like this chapter! And sorry if I get any medical stuff wrong, I researched a lot of stuff, but I could still be wrong, haha :) Oh and also if there's any mistakes or things that don't make sense, sorry I just got sick...again and I'm wicked tired so bear with me :)**

After they were sure Tim was absolutely passed out, Gibbs and Ducky removed their hands from their grip on Tim's body. Ducky sighed sadly as he leaned back on his heels, looking at the unconscious agent with sympathy.

"What do we do now, Duck?"

"Let's get him into a more comfortable area, but first, let me bandage his hands before they get infected," Ducky said quietly

Gibbs nodded as he went into McGee's bathroom in search of some bandages, gauge, and rubbing alcohol. When he returned, he tossed the supplies to Ducky and the doctor immediately began fixing Tim up. First he wiped the wounds with the rubbing alcohol and let it air dry; afterward, he gently lifted up Tim's limp hand and began wrapping his knuckles after he'd put a large bandage on them. Once he repeated the process to the other hand, Ducky clasped his hands together and nodded t Gibbs in confirmation. Gibbs returned the gesture and he weaved his hands underneath Tim's armpits, while Ducky grabbed Tim's ankles. When they lifted him, they both looked at each other with surprised expressions; McGee was way too light, like he hadn't been eating. They would talk to him about it later. They carried him out of the kitchen and into his room, gently placing him on the bed. When the two were done, Ducky left to go check on Tony while Gibbs stayed behind and brought the covers up to Tim's shoulders. Satisfied, he pat Tim's head and left the room.

"Ah! Careful, Ducky!" Complained Tony as Ducky touched the tender spot on Tony's head.

"Sorry, lad, but I must see how bad the damages are."

"How bad?" Asked Gibbs as he stood behind the doctor, assessing his older agent.

"Well," said Ducky as he straightened up, "there's no concussion, that's for sure, but he will have a nasty egg on his head for a while, not to mention some intensive pain, too. I suggest ice and rest for you, Anthony. In the meantime, I must go check on our young Timothy." With that he turned around and waddled back to McGee's room.

"Ziva," said Gibbs, pulling an ice pack from the freezer and passed it to Tony. "Take Abby and Palmer home, we'll take care of Tony and McGee."

But _Gibbs_!" Whined Abby. "I want to stay with Timmy; he's so sick and so...sad."

"I know, Abs, but like I said, we got it covered. Go home. Get some sleep; you can see Tim later."

Abby nodded reluctantly as Gibbs kissed her on the head, hugging her tightly. Once Abby, Ziva, and Palmer were gone, he went back to where Ducky had disappeared to.

"What's wrong with him Duck?" Sighed Gibbs, glancing at his sleeping agent.

"Well, just as I predicted, he has a slight fever; nothing to worry about, though. I'm more concerned about how long this has been going on. Tony had mentioned that Timothy told him he was sleeping fine, but every time he woke up, he's been feeling more and more fatigued. Sleepwalking can do that to a person, and Timothy would think that he's been sleeping since he wouldn't remember his nighttime "adventures." It could be a sleeping disorder, but I can't be certain."

"So what do we do?"

"Well, I suggest we increase his therapy sessions to four times a week instead of two and that we keep a sharp eye on both his physical and mental health, as well."

"Is McGee okay, Boss?" A voice suddenly came from the doorway.

Ducky and Gibbs turned around to see Tony leaning against the doorway, holding the ice to his head while craning his neck to see his friend.

"He will be, Anthony, but for now we need to let him rest, just like you need to do."

"I'm fine, Ducky. Tim's more important than me for once," cracked Tony as he walked further into the bedroom.

"You must rest, Anthony! Just because you think your injury is a minor bump, doesn't mean you don't need to take care of yourself. Timothy is in good hands, we'll watch over him this time."

Tony was about to argue, but as soon as he got an icy glare from Gibbs, he closed his mouth and grudgingly turned around, leaving the room.

"He means well, Jethro."

"I know. But he needs to take care of himself also; I think he's had his fair share of hospital stays and I don't need another agent sick."

Duck grinned at his younger friend and turned back to Tim.

"Lets let the young man rest, shall we?"

Gibbs nodded once in agreement as he and Ducky left the room silently. When they got to the kitchen, Ducky went to go make tea while Gibbs made his way to the living room. What he'd expected was to see Tony snoring loudly on the uncomfortable couch, but instead he was sitting up and staring into space, uncertainty and distress on his features.

"Tim's going to be okay, DiNozzo," said Gibbs softly.

Tony didn't move though, obviously ignoring the statement from his Boss. After a few moments, though, he spoke in a quiet voice.

"It's my fault...again."

"You're saying that you caused him to sleepwalk?"

"Yes...no...I don't know, maybe! I mean, I was responsible for him, I was supposed to be watching him and I fell asleep. I could have prevented him from laving the house; I could have prevented from having a panic attack, and I could have prevented this stupid head injury, but I didn't, because I was careless and lazy."

"Gibbs sighed frustratingly as he studied Tony's face.

"I'm not going to tell you what you did or didn't do was careless or wrong, but I'm pretty sure Tim would forgive you. It's been a rough week...for all of us; the last thing Tim needs-or wants- is to be holding a grudge on someone who's trying to help him."

Tony hesitated then he looked at Gibbs. He didn't nod, but he let out a breath and cleared his throat.

"Get some sleep, DiNozzo, don't worry about McGee," Gibbs said patting Tony's back.

"Okay, Boss," sighed Tony as he laid back on the pillows and covered himself with the blanket from the back of the couch.

"Goodnight, Tony."

"Night, Boss," Tony whispered. In a couple minutes, Tony's breathing evened out and Gibbs knew that he was finally asleep. He smirked as he shut off the lights and left the room, and moving into the kitchen.

"That took awhile; is Anthony alright?"

Gibbs sighed as he sat down and Ducky passed him a cup of tea.

"He blames himself," Gibbs said simply.

Ducky shook his head and exhaled heavily. "This has not been a very good month for the team; I could imagine that Anthony must feel the stress and responsibility weighing on him."

"On all of us," Gibbs added, taking a sip of tea. "But I promised Tim that everything will go back to normal and I intend to keep that promise...no matter what."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**1:45pm **

Tim groaned slightly as he turned onto his right side. Figuring out that he was facing the window since the light was shining through his eyelids, McGee groaned again, returning to laying on his back. Sighing, he decided that he was probably not going to be able to fall back asleep, so getting up was probably the best idea. Yawning loudly, he opened his eyes and looked around the room sleepily. Everything, as he expected, seemed to be in place; what he didn't expect, though, was for Ducky to show up at his bedroom door.

"Timothy, my boy, you're awake!" Ducky exclaimed. "You're quite some sleeper, I must say."

"Ducky? W-what are you doing here?" Rasped Tim as he rubbed his eyes, only then noticing the bandages on his hands curiously.

Ducky just looked at him, watching Tim inspecting his injuries.

"It's a long story, Timothy."

Tim looked up at him with wide and fearful eyes, thinking the worse.

"What happened, Ducky?" Whispered Tim as he began to get out of bed.

"Timothy, you must calm down!" Ducky said moving forward and pushing Tim back onto the pillows. "We'll explain everything in a moment."

Tim frowned and mouthed the word 'we' quietly. _What could Ducky possibly mean by that?_

"Wait...is Tony here? He's the one who's supposed to tell me if I...if I did anything."

Ducky pursed his lips and looked out the door to where Tony was sleeping on the couch.

"Yes, DiNozzo is here, but he's resting right now."

Tim let out a breath and nodded. "So what about these?" Said Tim referring to his hands.

"That's part of the story," said Gibbs as he came into the room.

"Boss? You're here, too? Boy, I must have done something really bad for you to come here." Tim said as he threw off the covers and turned to have his feet hanging off the side of the bed.

Ducky and Gibbs exchanged looks, which Tim didn't miss but decided to ignore. There was a couple moment s of silence, before Ducky decided to break it with the question he'd been itching to ask Tim since he and Gibbs picked him up last night.

"Timothy, I've been meaning to ask: are you eating alright?"

"Huh?"

"Have you been eating, Timothy?"

McGee's face turned stone-like and his body tensing as he looked down at his feet, trying to avoid both Ducky's and Gibbs' scrutinizing eyes.

"Tim," said Gibbs coming closer to the bed.

"No...I haven't."

"Why, not Timothy?" Whispered Ducky.

Tim looked up with uncertainty showing greatly on his features. "Every- every time I try to, I just- I end up feeling nauseous and throwing it all up."

"Why didn't you say anything, Tim?" Gibbs asked.

Tim shrugged, "I didn't think it was important."

"Of course it's important, Timothy, you haven't been eating for days!" Yelled Ducky.

"I-I'm sorry, I just- I haven't been feeling myself for a while."

Ducky blinked and sighed sadly, "It's okay, lad, I know you've been under a lot of stress lately."

Tim inhaled and looked from Ducky to Gibbs with a sad expression.

"I-I'm gonna go take a shower," Tim said quietly as he stood up and pushed past Gibbs and the doctor.

"Timothy-" but before he could say anything else, the bathroom door was shut. Ducky shook his head and turned back to face Gibbs. Before either of them could say anything, a voice came from behind them.

"Hey," yawned Tony, "I swear I just heard McGeek's voices; where is he?"

Gibbs jerked his head towards the bathroom and said simply, "shower."

"Oh...has he..um...asked about...you know last night?"

"Well, I told Jethro that Tim may not remember what happened, but-"

"Did he?"

"No, unfortunately not, Anthony."

Tony exhaled dejectedly and nodded.

"But it seems to me that you were supposed to inform him about what he's been doing to make himself feel worn-out all the time."

"Yeah, well, I don't know if he'd want to hear it from me; I wasn't much help to the situation."

"He _trusts_ you, Anthony, I think he'd listen to the man who's like a brother to him than anyone else."

"You sure about that?" Grinned Tony. "I'm pretty sure he wouldn't give up the opportunity to have Abby come over and tell him."

Ducky chuckled and nodded his head slightly. "That is true," he said, then he looked towards the bathroom door and sighed.

"Why don't we give Timothy some privacy."

Tony unwillingly agreed while he left the room, followed by Gibbs and Ducky.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~N~~~~~~~~~~~~~C~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~I~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~S~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the bathroom, Tim had the shower running, but he hadn't gotten in yet. He was standing by the door, eavesdropping on the conversation happening outside the bathroom. Something _did_ happen last night and it wasn't good by the way Tony had said 'did he ask about last night' had Tim thinking that whatever he'd done had affected the team...badly.

McGee leaned on the door and slid to the ground slowly. _Why did it have to be this way? He was getting better-great even- then everything had to go down the drain...again._

_"Let's give Timothy some privacy."_ He heard Ducky say after a couple seconds of silence. When he heard the three left, finally, Tim let the dam break, tears falling out onto the floor. _Why, in the fricken world, did this HAVE to happen to me? I'm the computer geek, not someone like Tony that had twenty-five two sided pages of enemies. I always seem to luck out and never get hurt, but this is worse than everything that happened to Tony put together._

Tim sniffed as he wiped his eyes, and deciding that he was wasting water, he got up, stumbling to the shower, forgetting that he was still fully clothed. He tripped over the tub wall and fell into the running shower, slamming into the back wall. Luckily, his hands stopped his partially injured head from smacking against the hard surface, but sacrificed his left wrist and he heard, and felt, it snap. Whimpering in pain, Tim slowly dropped into the filling tub, not even caring if he was soaked to the skin. He just sat in the shower, staring into space as he let the water drown out everything around him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**2:55pm**

He's been in there awhile, Jethro," said Ducky, glancing into Tim's room for the tenth time.

Gibbs looked up from the newspaper he'd been reading and looked at Ducky then stealing a look into Tim's room. Ducky was right, it's been forty-five minutes and the shower was still on and showing no signs of stopping. Tony had left some time ago to get some lunch and it was just him, Duck and McGee.

"I'll go check on him," Gibbs said, setting the paper down and getting up and walking into Tim's room.

"McGee!" Gibbs yelled, pounding on the door. Nothing. Only the sound of the constantly running water filled the room.

"Tim, open up!"

Silence.

Gibbs' patience ran out and he kicked the wooden door open, causing it to swing on it's hinges.

"McGee," he said. He looked at the tub and his heart broke with what he saw. Tim was huddled in the tub, shivering violently as the freezing water sprayed onto him, but Tim seemed not to notice...or care. His face was paler that usual and his expression was unreadable, even for Gibbs.

"Tim?" Gibbs whispered as he moved closer to the unresponsive man. When he did, Gibbs noticed that his agent's left wrist was purple and swollen, trembling uncontrollably. It had to be broken or at least sprained.

"McGee."

Finally, Tim shifted his gaze towards Gibbs slowly, without moving his head, and stared lazily at the senior agent. Without a word, Tim's eyes returned to face forward once again. Gibbs frowned and moved to the tub, shutting off the water and squatting down to get a better look at his junior agent.

"Tim, look at me," Gibbs said softly, but was ignored. This made Gibbs wonder that whatever had happened in the past half hour, Tim might have hit his head, too. Gibbs reached out and gently grabbed Tim's chin, turning his face towards him.

"Tim, what happened?" He asked.

At first, McGee didn't say anything but then he replied simply, "I tripped."

Gibbs sighed and pursed his lips, "Did you hit your head?"

Tim shook his head slowly and Gibbs exhaled in relief as he let McGee go.

"Can you get up?"

Tim shrugged absentmindedly as he closed his eyes and shivered again. He was freezing, but he didn't feel up to moving on his own.

"Duck!" He shouted out the door.

"Yes, Jethro, is Tim- oh dear," he said once he saw the condition of the young agent.

"Good god, Timothy, are you trying to get yourself sick?"

They both expected Tim not to answer the somewhat rhetorical question, but the response was shocking.

"Yes," Tim croaked.

"What?" Gibbs and Ducky replied in unison.

"I have to get sick, it's the only way," Tim said, making it clear to Gibbs that he heard correct.

"Why?"

Tim inhaled and spoke quietly in a slightly monotone voice, "The last time I was sick, I couldn't think clearly and if I couldn't think clearly, I wouldn't be able to hear the voices in my head and the nightmares would go away. I just want them to go away, Boss," Tim finished in a broken whisper. The two older gentlemen looked at Tim sadly, and right now they had to get him out of the water and removed the wet clothes.

"What about his wrist, Duck? Does he need a hospital?" Gibbs glanced at Tim's expression and he became even more concerned when the word 'hospital' didn't faze him.

"What about- oh my, it seems to me like it's broken, but it's something I can't do here. The hospital will have to look at it."

"I'll bring him," Gibbs stated.

"Okay, but before he catches pneumonia, he needs dry clothes."

Gibbs agreed and in five minutes, they had Tim out of the bathroom and into new sweats.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You okay...Tim?" Gibbs asked on the silent car ride to Bethesda. Tim was staring out his window listlessly, his face still pale and his hair still damp, and of course, his swollen wrist still shaking in pain. Occasionally, violent tremors would start up in Tim's body and his teeth chattering would be loud enough to hear.

"A-A l-l-little...I-I guess I j-just w-w-went out of i-it for a s-sec," shuddered Tim as he coughed.

Gibbs watched his agent, hating that this was happening to him, that _all_ of this was happening to the most caring and innocent kid. As he pulled up to a red light, Gibbs reached to the backseat and grabbed a spare blanket and gave it to McGee.

"Thanks," Tim whispered, carefully taking it in his good hand and pulled it up over his shoulders and sneezed. In seconds, McGee's eyes closed and he fell asleep.

Gibbs smirked as he pressed on the gas when the light turned green. Once he pulled up at the hospital entrance, he shut off the engine and looked at Tim. He'd suddenly gotten paler and his breathing was uneven and labored.

Gibbs frowned as he put his hand on Tim shoulder, shaking it gently. "Tim, wake up." But as soon as he touched McGee, he could feel the shivers vibrate through his hand.

"Dammit," Gibbs cursed. Tim really needed to get inside, but he didn't want to wake the poor kid. So instead, he decided to do what he did best: lie. He quickly got out of the car and ran inside.

"I need some help, my son is really sick and he's not waking up!"

Immediately, the room went into action, and a flurry of nurses ran out to the car with a gurney to where Tim was. They dragged him out an gently placed him on the stretcher. In two minutes, McGee had disappeared behind the double doors, leaving Gibbs standing alone in the waiting room. Gibbs sighed and took out his phone, calling Ducky to inform him what was going on. Afterward, Gibbs sat down in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs, having to do the one thing he hated most: waiting. It definitely was not one of his strong suits.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**4:10pm**

"Hey, Ducky, I got the- what's wrong?" Tony's smile fell when he noticed the grim look on the doctor's face. "Where's Tim...and Gibbs?"

"I'm afraid that Timothy had a small accident," replied Ducky.

"What do you mean?"

"It seems to be that he tripped and broke his wrist. He may also have caught a cold since we found him sitting in the running shower for nearly an hour."

Tony cursed as he ran his hand through his hair and placed the food down on the table.

"Is he gonna be okay?"

"I can't be sure at the moment, Jethro just called me a moment ago informing me that Timothy was just being brought into the emergency room. But I wouldn't worry, Anthony, the worse thing that could happen is for Timothy to get pneumonia."

"Oh...okay. Just- just let me know when Gibbs calls back; I'm going to go take a nap," Tony said quietly as he headed for the living room.

"Tony," Ducky said.

DiNozzo turned around and looked at the older man.

"He'll be okay."

"Yeah...I know," Tony said giving Ducky a small smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**5:30pm**

"Anyone here for Timothy McGee?"

Gibbs looked up from his gaze at the floor to see a doctor standing by the nurses station.

"Here," he said standing up.

The doctor walked over to him and smiled.

"And your relation to Mr. McGee is-"

"He's my son."

The doctor hesitated but nodded. "Well, then, Tim had a nasty but clean break in both his left radius and ulna so he's going to be needing a cast for a while. He also caught a slight cold, but it's nothing dangerous. I think he'll be able to go home within a couple hours."

"Thank you, Doctor."

"If you'd like to see him, he's in room 312. I'll have a nurse come in with the discharge papers later."

Gibbs nodded and he walked to McGee's room. When he got there, he quirked a smile at the peacefully sleeping agent. He was still a bit pale and his breathing was still scratchy, but at least he looked a lot better than before. A sling bound his left cast covered arm to his body, and it had Gibbs have pity on the kid; it was going to be tough for Tim to do anything since he was left-handed.

Gibbs decided that since Tim would probably be sleeping for a while, he'd go to the cafeteria and grab some crappy coffee and fill Ducky in on Tim's condition. Satisfied that Tim would be alright for a couple of minutes, Gibbs turned on his heels and made his way to his awaiting coffee. When Gibbs returned, with his steaming coffee in hand, Tim was still resting, as he expected. He took the liberty of grabbing a chair and bringing it up to Tim's bed. Now all he had to do was wait, but this time he had his coffee to keep him occupied.

About an hour later, Tim, finally, showed signs of waking up. Gibbs threw away his empty coffee cup and sat back in the chair, ready for the agent's awakening. Tim's forehead creased in confusion as his head rolled from right to left on the pillow, now facing Gibbs. He groaned slightly, causing himself to break out into a coughing fit. At last, when he was done coughing, Tim sniffed, opening his eyes, and looked around blearily. When the green eyes landed on Gibbs, he coughed again and sniffed, trying to clear his stuffy nose.

"Boss?" He questioned in a congested voice.

"Yeah, it's me, Tim."

"I'm in the-"

"Yep."

"Great."

Gibbs laughed at Tim's reaction. "Look on the bright side."

"What bright side?" Groaned Tim, rolling his eyes.

"You're not staying overnight."

"Really?" Tim smiled.

Gibbs smirked and nodded as Tim sat up, but winced in pain when he shifted his arm.

"Easy, Tim. You broke your wrist."

"That explains the cast...and pain," stated Tim, slowly sitting up.

"So. You ready to go?"

Tim looked up, his face brightening. "Now?"

Gibbs chuckled and Tim grinned. He threw the covers off and brought his leg over the bed. He, then, noticed that he was still in his sweats and was grateful he didn't have to be wearing another gown.

"I'll get your discharge papers," said Gibbs, knowing that Tim was eager to get out of the building and back home. He didn't blame him, he knew the feeling.

Tim nodded as he put his shoes on and waited anxiously for Gibbs to return.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**8:35pm**

By the time they got back to Tim's apartment, he was instantly drained of all the excited energy and deteriorated. He sneezed a number of times and his nose was drippy and stuffed up. Now he regretted getting himself sick; he couldn't even focus on the stairs that he and Gibbs were walking up to get to his apartment and he ended up stumbling almost landing on his injured arm before Gibbs caught him.

"Careful, Tim."

"S-sorry, Boss...really t-tired all of a sudden."

When they finally got into the apartment, Gibbs led Tim to his room and set him down on the bed.

"Don't fall asleep, let me get your meds first," sternly Gibbs.

"Mhmm," mumbled Tim sleepily.

"I mean it, McGee."

Tim nodded sluggishly as Gibbs left the room, heading into the kitchen.

"Ah, Jethro, you're back. How is our young Timothy?"

"Good, besides the sneezing and coughing."

"I take it that's why you're getting him some NyQuil for him right now?"

"Yep...Where's DiNozzo?"

"Resting. He's concerned about Timothy...even if he won't say it."

"We all are, Duck, but my gut is saying he'll get better soon."

"Good, Jethro, because it's not the same at NCIS without out him."

"I know, Duck, I know."

Gibbs grabbed the cup of water and the medicine and walked back to Tim's room. When he did, he smirked at the position Tim was in. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his eyes were closed, head bowed and soft snores were coming out of his partially closed. Gibbs shook his head as he went up to McGee and gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

Suddenly, McGee gasped, jerking awake.

"Whoa, Tim it's just me."

"Oh, hey Boss."

"I told you not to fall asleep," Gibbs said in a joking manner.

"Sorry," Tim smiled sheepishly.

Gibbs rolled his eyes as he passed Tim the medicine. After, Tim gulped the water down and got under the covers, yawning.

"Thanks, Boss...for everything. I don't know if I'd be able to get through this whole situation without you...or the team."

"You're welcome, Tim. Now get some sleep, okay?"

"On it, Boss," McGee said sleepily and closed his eyes, quickly drifting off into a deep slumber.

Gibbs watched Tim close his eyes and he smirked as he turned off the light.

"Night, Tim."

**A little fatherly love in this chapter. Next chapter coming soon :)**


	26. Closure

Chapter 26

"Good afternoon, Tim. How are you feeling?"

"I, honestly, don't have a clue, Rachel; my emotions are all jumbled. I…I've been feeling scared, depressed, sick, and it's becoming too much for me to deal with. I feel like…a burden to me team every time I screw something up; they help me, but I feel like they're getting tired of it."

Rachel looked at Tim sadly; he looked terrible. His face was drawn and pale- maybe almost gray- and his eyes had dark circles underneath them. Jethro had mentioned that he'd been sick, but he didn't tell her why or how. That was for Tim to talk about…if he wanted to, that is.

"What happened, Tim? You were doing so well, you were getting better."

Tim looked up from staring at his trembling hands, his haunted eyes landing on his therapist.

"I…I don't know; all I remember is…well I actually don't remember much of anything. Ducky and Gibbs had to tell me what…what I did. I just don't know why I've been doing it. I have these small snapshots of this voice and images but, that's all."

"You're probably stressed; if we can get you to relax, we may be able to explore your subconscious and see what's bothering you," said Rachel softly.

Tim nodded silently and lay back on the couch.

"Close your eyes and take a deep breath," Rachel began, her sultry voice flying through Tim's ears. "Clear your mind of all thoughts and worries and we'll start with a blank mind."

Tim followed Rachel's instructions and surprisingly, he began to feel his tense body relax.

"Now, go into your subconscious and search for the answers that you need. Why you have been feeling like this and to see if we can end it."

Tim's forehead creased in thought as he- the Tim in his mind- searched for the source of his pain; the nightmares.

_**Hello, McGee. It's nice to see you in my world for once. Pretty nice, isn't it?**_

Tim gasped, which caused his to break out into a small cough since his mouth was dry.

"What is it, Tim?" Rachel asked worriedly.

"It's him," whispered Tim. "It's Harris."

"The man who tried to kill you?"

"Y-yes, h-he's inside my head."

"Do you think he's the one causing you to be distressed?"

"I know he is," Tim growled.

_**Aw Tim, why do you always have to blame me for everything, huh? I've helped you.**_

"You've done nothing but hurt me," Tim said aloud. "How do I get rid of him?"

"You are stronger, Timothy. You have to control your own mid, don't let him control you."

Tim nodded shakily and took a deep breath.

_**Don't destroy me Tim; I can make you all better.**_

"L-Leave me alone!"

"Tim its okay, you don't have to do this. You can leave now!"

"Just stop hurting me!"

"Dammit," muttered Rachel as she stood up and went to her patient.

"Tim, wake up!"

Nothing.

"Tim!"

**Tim's Subconscious**

_**You can't defeat me, McGee, remember? You're W-E-A-K. Weak!**_

_I can defeat you and I will!_

_**Sure, whatever you say, Probie.**_

_Tim froze his face paling a shade lighter than it already was. "What did you just call me?"_

_**Pro-ha-ho-bie. Got a problem with that?**_

_Don't call me that…please, or I swear to god I'll-_

_**Ooh, a weakness. I'll just jot that-**_

_Shut up!_

Tim ran at his subconscious Harris and tackled him down as he began to punch the living shit out of him.

_**Hey! Stop, McGee! Please stop!**_

But McGee just ignored Harris' pleas and cries, and after what seemed like hours, Tim got up and looked down at the, now, bloodied and battered form of Harris. Tim breathed heavily as he watched the dead subconscious Harris light up suddenly and burst into flames.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tim's eyes snapped open and he gasped desperately for air. He felt soft gentle hands gripped on his shoulders, trying to hold him down, but he had no idea who it was and if they were friend or foe.

"Tim! Timothy, calm down! You're alright, it's done."

"R-Rachel?"

"Yes, Tim, it's me. Are you okay?"

"I t-think so; I think it's over."

"What?"

"Harris; he's gone."

Rachel smiled in relief as she stood up and patted Tim on the shoulder.

"Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah, things are about to get a whole lot better, now, for sure."

"Alright…of course…well thank you my dear, you've been a huge help with Timothy and I will make sure that he's back on Monday…You are very welcome, Rachel, have a good night."

Ducky hung up the phone and sighed tiredly as he turned his chair to face Gibbs, who was sitting on the edge of Ducky's desk in the dark autopsy. The only light was coming from his desk lamp, which didn't help much at all. It was almost nine pm and Gibbs was going to check on McGee as soon as he got the diagnosis of Tim's progress. Ziva had been the one to pick him up and bring him home, getting him settled and leaving, but not before mothering him until he couldn't stand it.

"Well?" Asked Gibbs.

"Rachel is confident that Tim is going to get better now. Even Timothy is positive about it."

"What caused the sleepwalking…besides the fever?"

"Mostly stress and Rachel mentioned nightmares being caused by a "Harris" in his subconscious."

"Gibbs raised an eyebrow, but decided not to comment. After all that had happened, he was ready to believe anything.

"So he's going to be okay? No more sleepwalking?"

"Well, eventually, Jethro. It's going to take time; and don't be alarmed if he sleepwalks a couple more times in the next couple weeks, it's just some aftershocks."

"Thanks Duck."

"No problem, Jethro."

Gibbs pat Ducky's back as he made his way to the sliding door. They swished open loudly revealing the elevators in front of him. Once he got on, he pressed the button for his floor so he could grab his stuff and head for Tim's. Once the elevator jolted to a stop and the bell dinged, he stepped out and headed for his desk. But he was unprepared for what he was going to see or more like who he was going to see.

He couldn't think, he couldn't focus, and he couldn't relax. Yeah, he'd been feeling tons better since the final encounter with his subconscious Harris, but he couldn't help feel that there was something crucial missing. Then it dawned on him; it was the only way he could feel whole again. Grabbing his coat with his good hand, he left his apartment and went downstairs to call a taxi.

Twenty-six minutes later found Tim sitting at his desk, staring at the closed file that Tony had left on Gibbs' desk along with his report. He just had to open it, but he felt frozen and all he could do was stare at the folder's bland cream color quietly, wondering if he was ever going to find the guts to open it. In all his thinking, he barely even noticed that the elevator had dinged and the doors opened, letting someone off into the bullpen. Sensing that someone was looking at him, Tim lifted his gaze from the folder to the presence that was standing near him. It was Gibbs. _Shit, now I'm in trouble._ Tim sighed inwardly as he looked back to the folder once more. After a few moments of silence, he decided to break the tension and awkwardness.

"Can you believe it took Tony this long to give you his report?" Tim chuckled softly without looking up. "Well, I guess it's not that hard to believe."

Gibbs smirked, but disappeared quickly as he saw the difficult situation his agent was in.

"I think that's number three, but I took pity on him; it's been a rough couple of months."

The corner of Tim's mouth quirked up, but it didn't stay.

"What are you doing here, McGee?" Gibbs asked, though he had a pretty good idea what the answer would be.

Tim didn't answer right away and Gibbs was wondering if he even heard the question. He was about to repeat himself when Tim opened his mouth to speak.

"I've been trying to muster up the courage to open this for almost half an hour, but for some reason I can't. I guess I'm just scared at what I'll see."

Gibbs heaved a sigh as he moved closer to his agent. "You shouldn't be driving Tim."

"I took a cab. I…I could relax, Boss, not without seeing _this._ But what good is it if I can't even open the damn folder?"

"Why, McGee?"

"I…I guess I just feel empty. I never thought I'd have my own case file and…now that I do, I need to see it. I need to fill the hole in my chest…not the bullet hole, but you know what I mean."

Gibbs smiled at the joke/ pun that Tim tried to make to relieve some of the tension in the room.

"McGee, look at me," Gibbs said as he squatted down to Tim's eye level.

McGee slowly tore his stare away from the paper to look at his Boss. Gibbs pursed his lips in sadness when he saw the hurt in Tim's eyes and it made him want to cry.

"I know exactly how you feel."

Tim frowned in confusion. "Really?"

The older gentleman nodded. "After my coma and then me leaving, I didn't really leave right away. I went to the evidence lockup to see my case file. I stood down there for a half an hour before I realized it wasn't worth it. It was over and I didn't relive what was past events. Now, I won't stop you, Tim, if you still want to look at it, but I'm telling you, it's better not knowing."

Tim looked into Gibbs' ice blue eyes for any sort of false pretense, but luckily he found none. He looked away and exhaled quietly, staring back at the closed file. He pursed his lips in thought of what he should do. Should he listen to Gibbs? Should he go with his gut and open it? It was all so confusing for him, but after a moment, he decided that Gibbs knew best and that it would better if he didn't read the folder's content; if he did it might bring back terrifying memories that he didn't want to re-experience. Tim breathed and picked up the folder, handing it to Gibbs.

"Good choice," grinned Gibbs as he took the file and squeezed Tim's shoulder gently. McGee smiled weakly as he got up from his chair and turned off his lamp.

"Come on," said Gibbs, placing the folder on his desk. "I'll take you home."

Tim nodded and followed Gibbs into the elevator. Gibbs placed a hand on Tim's back in a fatherly gesture as the doors closed.

"You won't regret it Tim, trust me."

"I do trust you, Boss…and thanks."

Gibbs nodded as he and Tim waited for the elevator to reach the lobby floor.

"Remember, I and the team will always be here for you Tim. DO NOT hesitate to come to me or the rest of us if you need to talk."

Tim beamed; he was beginning to feel the weight lift off his shoulders and his heart. He was feeling better and that he belonged to the family once again. In couple months, things might just be back to the way they were.

**Next chapter to be updated a.s.a.p. I'll be beginning to wrap up this story soon and thanks for everyone who has stuck with my story from the beginning. **


	27. Brother Bonding

**Chapter 27**

**I'm so so so so sorry that I haven't updated for like months. I've been busy and I've had writer's block…again. Don't you hate when that happens to you? I know I do. So here's the next chapter that took forever to write, Enjoy :)**

By ten thirty, Tim had gone to bed and Gibbs sat in the living room, reading a magazine. He stopped reading suddenly he heard soft footsteps coming from inside the apartment. Frowning, instantly thinking of some type of threat, Gibbs got off the recliner and placed a hand on his gun. Gibbs got up slowly and went into the kitchen and at first he thought it might be Tim going to the bathroom, but when he checked both there and the bedroom, they were unoccupied. _Crap!_ He remembered Ducky saying that McGee might still have some sleepwalking episodes from time to time, but he didn't know how bad they were going to be…like the last time.

"McGee? He called out into the silent room. All of a sudden he heard a bump come from behind him in the front hallway. He turned around and made his way towards the front door. When he got there though, he sighed, his body relaxing and his hand going back down to his side. He found Tim walking up against the closed door, his eyes closed this time, trying- and failing- to get outside. Remembering Ducky's words of caution, he noticeably approached the young man. He gently grabbed Tim's shoulders and turned his in the direction of the bedroom. He led Tim down towards the hall, but unexpectedly, Tim got out of his grip and spun back around and headed to the living room. Gibbs sighed and shook his head as he followed Tim; when he got there, however, Tim had already laid down on the couch and fast asleep. Gibbs smirked as he approached the sleeping agent, grabbing a spare blanket and draping it over the agent's body. _That was close._

Gibbs rubbed his face tiredly and he went back to sit in the recliner. He was exhausted and he wanted to sleep, but he was afraid that Tim would have one of his "episodes" again and he definitely did not want a repeat occurrence. But then again, he had to close his eyes for only a moment, just to get the dryness away. He wouldn't sleep, but he'd do what Ziva called "bat-napping." Smiling at the wrong idiom Ziva used, he closed his eyes and waited for morning to come…or for Tim to "wake up" again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tim woke up dazed and confused; he felt uncomfortable and the space he was laying on felt limited. It didn't feel like his king sized bed he loved so much. He blinked open his eyes and squinted as the sun blinded him, but for some reason the heat made him feel sleepy all over again. He looked down at his watch and yawned. _6:30 Am_. It was way too early, so he closed his eyes and fell back asleep. He never even noticed that he was sleeping on the couch or that Gibbs was resting in the chair opposite of him.

Five minutes after Tim fell back asleep, Gibbs jolted awake and looked around the room. He then looked at the sleeping form of his agent. Getting up and stretching, Gibbs went over to Tim and recovered the blanket that had fallen on the floor and put it back on McGee. Once he thought he was somewhat comfortable, he went into the kitchen to brew some coffee. It was still pretty early, but he decided that he'd go into work today; he's used enough sick days, and he probably had plenty of them left, but he didn't really care.

By 7:00, Gibbs finished his coffee and Tim was still sleeping. He wouldn't blame him though, but he was debating on whether he should wake Sam up or just leave a note. Settling with a note, he quickly wrote one and placed it on the table and left the apartment quietly. Time to get to work.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~N~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~C~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~I~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~S~~

**12 hours later**

Tony sat at his desk, staring blankly at his computer.

"Tony!" Ziva yelled, getting his attention.

"Huh?"

"I've called you three times, didn't you hear me?"

"Oh…no, sorry…I was thinking."

"You? Thinking? Something _must_ be wrong," Ziva smirked.

"Tony chuckled weakly. "Yeah, probably."

Ziva stared at Tony for a moment before getting up from her chair and walked over to Tony, sitting on the edge of his desk.

"What is wrong, Tony, and do not say 'nothing' because I _know_ something is bothering you."

For a moment the senior agent didn't say anything, but then he looked at Ziva and sighed heavily.

"It's just that- you know I don't sow my feelings much; try to act all brave and mask my fear with immaturity, but these last few months have- they've worn me down."

When Ziva didn't reply, he kept going.

"Tim, he- he can be a know it all and a pain in the ass sometimes, but that's what little brothers are: annoying." Tony chuckled and looked back to his computer. "I almost lost him one too many times, Ziva; not just in this month, but in the past, too. He's always had my back, but for some reason, I never seem to have his. Now after everything that has happened, I feel distant from him like… I don't know, like we haven't known each other for eight years."

"Then what are you still doing here, DiNozzo?" Gibbs said, appearing out of nowhere.

"Boss!" Tony exclaimed. "II thought you went to go get coffee?"

"Couldn't; place was closed down for renovations."

"They why not just-"

"Break room coffee is crap."

Tony grinned at his Boss' rare humor.

"So…how much did you hear?"

"Enough."

Tony nodded and looked down at his feet.

"Go, Tony. I think McGee could use some company after being holed up in an apartment all day."

Without another word, Tony grabbed his things and bounded towards the elevator.

"Thanks, Boss!" With that, he disappeared behind the closing doors.

Gibbs shook his head in disbelief and grinned as he turned around to face an eager looking Ziva. He smiled at her, giving in.

"Go home, Ziva."

Ziva grinned as she bolted to her desk, grabbed her things and left.

"Goodnight, Gibbs!"

Like Tony, she disappeared in the elevator and now it was just him. He smiled. This family of his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tim sat on the couch, flipping through channels solemnly. He was alone in his apartment…again; with nothing to do…again. He sighed, giving up on the TV and shut it off. He had read Gibbs' note earlier and wished desperately to do the same thing he had left to go do…work. He loved his work, and his job didn't require going to see a therapist for a month and stay at home all day. He looked at his reflection in the blank screen of his TV and sighed. Suddenly, he heard a knock on his door and his heart jumped, lifting his eyes up quickly. Getting off the couch, Tim made his way to the door and looked in the peephole. _Tony? What was he doing here?_ Tim frowned and opened the door slowly.

"Hey."

"Hey, McGee, you up for some company?"

Tim grinned, finally happy that he had company.

"Sure, come on in."

Tony stepped inside and watched as McGee headed to the fridge.

"Do you want-"

"No, we're going out. You've been in this place long enough."

"Tony-" McGee began.

"Come one, get your expensive Armani clothes on and let's hit the streets."

Tim looked warily at the older man and sighed, giving in.

"Fine, give me five minutes." Tim disappeared into his bedroom as Tony grinned at his achievement. He could be very persuasive.

"So, Tim, how've you been?"

Tim frowned, fingering the shot glass. "Why are you asking me that?"

"I don't know, I just- I haven't talked to you since the night you…you know."

"Yeah," Tim said drinking the liquid and still not looking at Tony.

Tony sighed, looking at his drink then tipping it back, exhuming all the liquid. The two were speechless for a moment before Tony spoke again.

"What's your issue, Probie?" He suddenly saw McGee tense up and he frowned, looking at him suspiciously.

"Don't call me that," Tim said darkly.

"Wh-"

"Just don't…please," Tim's voice cracked as he looked down at his empty glass.

Tony looked at his friends, worried that something had happened within the last couple of days that caused Tim to hate the name 'Probie.' Well, he's always hated the name, but this…this was different.

"Pro- Tim, talk to me…I mean, I know you think I'm not the best person to go to, but I'm here for you. It's the whole reason I came by cause…I don't know, you're my little brother and I feel like we've become more distant than ever these past couple month, and I hate it, McGee; and I know you hate it, too."

Tim froze and looked up, staring straight ahead and thinking about Tony said. He could feel Tony's eyes on him and sobered, sighing heavily.

"You're right, I do hate it. It's just- everything has been really hard for me, Tony, and it's all just catching up with me, you know? I guess I'm just still in shock."

"That's totally understandable, Tim. Now, I know Rachel is great and all, but she'd never comprehend the bond and trust between brothers."

Tim looked over at and chuckled, and a wide goofy grin breaking out on Tony's face.

"Yeah, I guess you're right about that."

"Of course I'm right; I'm never wrong! I'm an all knowing wise man!"

"So you're saying you're old?"

Tony's eyes widened and scoffed, faking a smile. "Of course not, why would you say that?"

Tim laughed; it was the first time he genuinely laughed in weeks. Tony motioned to the bartender as he laughed, too.

"Two more please."

**Almost done! Maybe a couple more chapter or three! :)**


	28. Crash

**Chapter 28**

"…And then I said, 'If you're going to at least steal a bunch of drugs, weapons _and_ kill a marine, just because you thought he saw you, you might want to make sure the stuff is actually real, Johnny.'" Tony laughed.

"What did he say next?" Grinned McGee.

"Then he said, 'What do you mean? My Boss sent me to this place specifically to steal these things. It was an initiation test.' That's what really set me off, I almost couldn't stop laughing! Then I said, 'Yeah, a test to see how stupid you are. He and his goonies are probably laughing their asses of right now! Those are paintball guns and bags of catnip, smartass!' You should have seen the look on his face! I swear this guy was the dumbest wannabe criminal I've ever come across!"

Tim snorted as he took another sip of his fourth glass; Tony was on his eighth and they were obviously both drunk out of their minds.

"Okay McShotglasses, lets hit the road, you hav' to res' or Gibbs'll kill me," Tony slurred.

Tim laughed again and began to take out his wallet, but Tony suddenly stopped him."

"No, no, no. It's on me."

"Th'nks-s-s," Tim said, almost incoherently, his eyelids getting heavy.

Tony paid the bill and the two stumbled out of the bar like two college kids after a party. When Tim went towards the car, Tony frowned. "Where do you think you're going?"

"To your car," Tim said, confused.

"I'm not driving and neither are you; we're both WASTED!"

"Yeah, you're right; I'll call a cab."

The taxi picked them up and as he drove to Tim's apartment, the driver kept looking at them suspiciously in the rearview mirror.

"So… how long you two been together?"

That alerted Tim well out of his drunken state for a moment. "Oh, no we-we're just part-"

"No need to be shy, Timmy, the nice man asked a simple question," Tony said jokingly.

Tim glared at the senior agent and punched him in the stomach.

"OW!"

The taxi driver smiled as Tim rolled his eyes and looked out his window.

"You know what Tony? You can be a real-" But Tim couldn't finish his sentence, because all of a sudden and giant cargo truck coming from the left side had slammed into the side of the car. The only sounds that could be heard were the screeching of tires, metal grinding together, and glass smashing. The only good thing was that there was no one else on the road to get caught in the crossfire; the downside, though, was that no one witnessed the accident or could even call for help or save them from the danger that was approaching. When the truck finally screeched to a stop, the taxi was destroyed beyond repair and there was no movement from the inside.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The truck driver jumped out onto the pavement and inspected his vehicle; barely any damage. Then he moved his cold gaze towards the taxi; a crumpled heap of glass and metal. The people inside were, no doubt, dead, but just to be sure…

The man who was driving, the man who had possibly killed all three occupants in the cab, was the same guy who sniped Wesley Harris. The same guy who reported back to Rinnert on Harris' so called "progress." If that supposedly "pro" hit-man couldn't do the job and his boss had been killed, he would get revenge and finish the job himself. He walked slowly up to the wreck and inspected it. _Yes, they were definitely dead._

Tim groaned weakly as he opened his eyes slowly. He could feel a warm, wet substance coating the right side of his head and his chest felt tight and painful. Looking around, ignoring the pain in his neck, he realized he was in-what was left of- the taxi. McGee looked to his left and suddenly caught sight of his partner who was unmoving and unusually quiet.

"T-Tony?" He croaked, moving his already casted hand to shake the senior agent. "Tony, can you hear me?" But Tony remained still. Tim cursed silently as he looked up at the cab driver, whose head was lodged into the window, blood spurting from the gash in his neck. He was now considered a lost cause. Tim swallowed painfully, his breathing coming out in raspy gasps. Suddenly he heard the sound of crunching footsteps on broken glass coming closer and closer; and since he was stupid not to bring his gun with him, he prayed that Tony had his.

Thankfully he did and Tim reached over with his good hand and grabbed the gun from Tony's holster and brought it back to his side, hiding it from view. He closed his eyes again and pretended to be still unconscious. The footsteps grew louder and then finally stopped by Tony's door. Tim opened one eye to a slit to see a man in his late 30's with a brown stubble inspecting the ruined cab. No way was this an accident. Tim carefully put a finger on the trigger, waiting to see what the man would do.

The trucker laughed coldly at his "accomplishment" as he raised his gun.

"Better safe than sorry," the man thought.

Tim saw this immediately and weakly lifted the gun towards the man's forehead; and by the time the trucker noticed this, a surprised but furious look on his face- he was dead before he hit the ground. Three shots rang through the air as Tim pulled the trigger, landing three bullets into the trucker's head. Immediately after, his arm dropped, drained of all energy from the short task. Tim moaned and looked at Tony once more, his eyelids becoming heavy with pain and exhaustion. He had to stay awake, but he was just so damn tired!

"T'ny," he whispered before passing out, not even lucid enough to hear the faint sound of sirens in the distance.

Tony jolted awake, instantly cursing in intense pain once he moved his shoulder…his now _dislocated_ shoulder. His head hurt like someone was playing bongo drums in it and he could feel a trickle of blood run from his temple and down his cheek. He could add a concussion to his ever-growing list of injuries. Other than that, though, he felt fine, considering his was in the worst of the receiving end from the crash. So if he came out fine, Tim must have come out even better, right?

Tony cleared his throat and turned slowly and stiffly towards the younger agent. Instantaneously, he froze in fear; Tim was not moving, because he actually looked worse than him…for once. But that was not a good thing; this was a very, _very_ bad thing. How could that even be possible? He barely ended up with a scratch, amazingly, and Tim had… god only know how many injuries he could have possibly sustained.

"McGee?" Tony asked worriedly. He reached out to Tim's neck, praying that his partner was still alive. When he felt a weak, but steady, beat against his finger, he sighed loudly in relief. That was one good sign.

"Tim, come on, don't do this man. Wake up!"

Silence.

"McGee!"

His friend didn't answer, his body only slumping against the cracked window when Tony shook him. That's when Tony noticed his own weapon in Tim's hand. _What the hell was he doing with my gun?_ A flash of worry passed over him, until he realized there was no visible gunshot wound on McGee, but he still couldn't rule out the possibility.

"Dammit, McGee."

He then heard the sound of approaching sirens and then almost after, police cars, fire trucks, and ambulances came rushing down the road towards the accident.

"You're gonna be okay, Tim, you're gonna be alright. Help's here, okay? Don't quit fighting, okay?" Tony clenched his teeth together and looked sadly at his partner; his 'supposed to be' recovering partner. _And just when he was getting better._

**I'm trying to reach at least 30 chapters… and at least 100 reviews, so don't forget to comment :) Next chapter up soon, and don't worry, Tim's fine :)**


	29. Getting Better At Last

**Chapter 29**

"One eighty over sixty; we need to get this guy stable and to Bethesda stat!"

"Wait, I need to-"

"Sir, sit down, you have a major concussion, three broken ribs and a dislocated shoulder!"

"That's great, but I need to see if my partner's okay." Tony broke from the EMT's hold and limped over, on his sore ankle, to where a number of different EMT's were working on McGee.

"Tim!" Tony breathed heavily, but he stopped short when he saw him.

"Severe concussion, five broken ribs and collarbone; metal penetrating the side, possibly the spleen, we need to stop the bleeding now!"

"Oh god," whispered Tony, his whole body going cold when he saw small pool of dark blood staining the pavement.

Tim's eyes were closed and his hair and colorless face were caked in fresh and dried blood.

"He's stable! Let's go!" The paramedics lifted Tim up onto the gurney and wheeled him into the ambulance. In seconds, the vehicle raced off and around the corner.

Suddenly, Tony felt someone touch his shoulder and it caused him to jump, the short movement making him nauseous and dizzy all of a sudden.

"Sir, you need to sit down before you injure yourself more!"

"I-I need to call my, Boss." Tony said numbly.

"That can w-"

"No, it can't! Let me call him…please."

The paramedic sighed in resignation. "Fine, but make it quick or I'm going to have to sedate you."

Tony rolled his eyes as he shakily took out his phone- which was, surprisingly, still working- and dialed Gibbs' number.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gibbs woke up groggily on the couch, blinking his eyes to adjust them to the darkness. The only light was coming from the street lamp outside, shining in through the blinds and the fluorescent light from his…phone? He had wondered what the hell that annoying ringing noise was. Whoever was calling at quarter to one better have a pretty damn good reason for doing so. That's when he noticed the caller I.D. _Tony. Dammit._ Dread instantly washed over him for a moment; something wasn't right. He picked it up shakily and answered.

"Yeah, Gibbs."

_"Boss!"_ Tony sounded light he just finished running a marathon. Yep, something was definitely wrong. Tony would never run that long- at least at this time that is. But now wasn't the time to joke; this was something serious.

"Tony, what's wrong?" He asked, already pulling on his coat and running out the door to his truck.

_"Boss it's- it's really bad, oh god."_

"Tony calm down, tell me what happened."

_"Tim's in real bad shape, Boss, _really_ bad shape. We- we had taken a cab to get back to Tim's apartment- cause, you know, we were both kinda drunk-"_ Gibbs frowned, making a mental note to headslap Tony when he had the chance. _"-this truck it- it just rammed us from out of nowhere!"_

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Boss, though I don't know why; it hit my side first.

Gibbs sighed, and rubbed his temple. "Alright, where's the accident?"

_"The intersection of East and Middle, not far from Sam's pub."_

"Stay where you are and I'll be there in five minutes."

"Okay…and Boss?"  
>"Yeah, Tony?"<p>

"I'm not so sure this was an accident. Tim had my gun in his hand and Metro found a guy- dead- right next to my door. He came up as Johansson Andrade; turns out, he's the guy who killed Harris when we matched the bullet to his gun. And even though he probably hit us on purpose, Metro's going to check the traffic tapes to confirm it."

Gibbs sighed and hung up, pressing hard on the accelerator. He was getting tired of this.

Gibbs pulled up to the "accident" scene and was immediately horrified. There was broken glass and metal all over the place and the taxi sat stationary in the center, crushed and smoldering. He hoped it was all just a dream, but he knew it wasn't. He looked around, seeing a disaster and worst of all, blood. Gibbs prayed that it wasn't from his agents, but he could only do just that…pray. After a few minutes, he finally located Tony sitting in the back of an ambulance with an icepack to his head. He briskly walked over and his senior agent immediately noticed him.

"Bos-Ah!" Tony winced when he moved his ribs.

"DiNozzo, sit before you pass out."

Tony obeyed, sitting back down as he grimaced and put the icepack back to his injury.

"You okay, Tony?"

"I- I think so. I mean, I'm doing better than, McGee," Tony laughed but sobered up quickly.

Gibbs pursed his lips and gently placed a hand on Tony's good shoulder.

"He'll be okay; he's made it this far."

"You're saying that like he's had a sickness," Tony growled, getting a bit angry. "It should have been me who got a severe concussion, or me who got stabbed in the spleen and bleed out a river all over the ground! Tim shouldn't have to go through this, Boss. He's been hunted, shot, poisoned, nightmare plagued, emotionally hurt, everything! He's been through way too much; it's my fault anyways."

"Why's that?"

"I was the one who suggested we go out to get a drink. He never really wanted to leave the apartment even if he didn't speak up. I could tell he didn't want to leave the safety of his apartment; he's afraid to…and I dragged him out here. None of this woulda happened if-" Tony jumped up in anger, but unexpectedly felt woozy and black spots were appearing in his vision.

"Tony? DiNozzo, what's wrong?"

Gibbs' voice sounded all echoey and so far away. "If…if I-" but Ton couldn't finish, because the next thing he knew, the darkness enclosed him in a thick, warm blanket. He could feel himself descending to the cold tar below and only hoped someone would be there to stop him before he hurt his, already pounding head onto the ground.

Ah! The wonderful smell of antiseptics and cheap plastic chairs. That's exactly what Tony smelled when he came to his senses.

"Oh my god, Tony! You guys, Tony's awake!"

Tony winced as the loud voice penetrating his throbbing head. _Abby._

"Abigail, you mustn't yell, it's probably disturbing his headache."

_Ducky._

"Right, sorry."

Tony opened his eyes, slowly, and took in his surroundings. Abby was bouncing near his head with an eager grin on her face, Ducky was next to her with a warm smile as was Ziva, and Gibbs was smirking, but he could see a little hint of concern on his face, and McGee was- wait where was McGee? Tony looked around worriedly and then he remembered the crash. Sonofabitch!

"Hey, Tony, how are you feeling?" Asked Abby eagerly.

"Where's Tim? Is he okay?" Tony breathes ignoring Abby's question. He tried to sit up, but with one arm restricted and three broken ribs, it didn't work out so well.

"Tony, lay down," Gibbs said sternly.

"I can't Boss, I need- I have to know."

"Timothy's okay, Anthony, now you need to-"

"I have to know for sure I have to see him…please."

Ducky and Gibbs looked at each other and both sighed.

"Okay, but after will you rest?

Tony nodded and grinned, but once Ziva brought in the wheelchair, the smile disappeared.

"Do I really-"

"Yep," chuckled Ziva evilly.

Tony groaned as he let Gibbs help him up and over to the chair. _681, 682, 683, 684…finally, 685._

"Now, Anthony, Timothy's resting, but the doctor said that his spleen is repaired, the concussion has decreased greatly and his bones are in the mend," said Ducky cheerfully but seriously.

Tony nodded and he was wheeled into McGee's room. He looked- well he actually looked great! He'd healed fast in just one day.

"Was I dreaming when Tim actually looked worse than me?"

"No you weren't," began Ziva, "it was touch and go for a few days, but-"

"A few days? H-How long was I out?"

"A week; turns out you had some intercraneal swelling, causing you to go into a light coma," said Abby. "Timmy only woke up yesterday, though."

"Oh…wow." Tony turned back to his partner who was breathing steady and slow.

"So he's okay?"

"Yeah, DiNozzo, he's going to be just fine," said Gibbs smiling.

"Good."

**A couple more chapters left! :) Comments are great; let's hit 100!**


	30. Almost Normal

**Chapter 30**

**Sorry for the uber long wait, I've been working on my other story **_**Crash**_**. Enjoy :)**

**The Next Morning**

"Hey Pro- Tim. Sorry, force of habit. I see you're still sleeping, but I wouldn't blame you, anyways. They must have you on the good stuff, huh? Yeah, I bet." Tony chuckled as he looked at his slumbering partner. "You should wake up, though, before I get bored of talking to myself and start drawing on your face."

"Do it and you die," came a hoarse voice from the bed.

"Tim? I-I thought you were sleeping?"

Tim smiled as he blinked open his eyes and looked at the older partner.

"I was…I just woke up in time to hear 'drawing on your face,'" yawned Tim.

Tim sighed as he tried to sit up, but whimpered and exhaled loudly when he moved his ribs and side.

"Ow! Ah, ow, ow!"

"Easy. McGee, easy," Tony said, standing up and handing him a bed remote. "That's what this is for."

"Oh, ah, thanks. Though, it would have been better if you pointed that out ten seconds ago."

"Better late than never, huh?"

"Yeah, okay," said Tim sarcastically. Once he was settled, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

"You okay?" Tony asked.

"Yeah, just exhausted…and very sore. How long was I out?"

"About half a week, give or take a few days."

"Oh…wow. W-what about you; are you okay?"

"I've…had better days. Getting rammed by a 12-ton semi is a new one, though."

"Ha, same here. Who knew that'd be on my list…or that I'd actually have one."

Tony smiled and patted McGee's back. "Well, don't follow in my footsteps."

"Been doing well so far," grinned McGee.

"Hey!"

"Just telling it like it is."

"Whatever," Tony said, rolling his eyes and leaned back in his chair.

"So when are you getting out of this dump?" He asked.

"Hopefully today; everything still kinda hurts, but I can live with it. I can't live here."

"Huh."

"What about you?"

"Been out for two days, McSickbed."

"What? Come on, usually you're the one in the hospital for more than a week!"

"Guess I'm just lucky this time," Tony smirked.

Tim frowned as he adjusted his sling, trying to get as comfortable as possible. He winced when pain shot up through his shoulder and across his chest. Broken collarbones sucked.

"So…I know I asked you this before and it's a rather touchy subject, but h-how've you been…and don't lie to me."

Tim looked at the senior agent and cleared his throat. He hesitated, wondering if he should trust Tony with this. He sighed heavily and looked down at his hands.

"Honestly, I've been feeling kinda good…given that I got hit by a truck and having the hospital practically my second home."

Tony smiled and nodded, but let continue.

"I've been feeling…I don't know, happier. I think overcoming the voices in my head started to make everything better. Maybe by the end of this month things will go back to the way it was…hopefully."

"I agree with that. The whole thing has just been so…"

"Overwhelming?"

"Yeah, that's the word."

The corner of Tim's mouth twitched, but it wasn't genuine.

"What about you?"

"Me? What about me?"

"How are you doing? I mean you've been through- _I've_ put you through- a lot lately and you know…I don't always have to be the center of attention."

Tony's smile disappeared and he looked at his feet. "I could…I mean I know we all wish this whole thing never started and we all want it to end, but yeah, everything that I've been through and-not to offend you or anything- what you put me through it's been…hard. You almost dying a few too many times, one of them when you tried to commit…" Tony took a deep breath and cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his head. "When you tried to commit suicide. I was scared and at sometimes I felt guilty and-"

"Tony you have nothing to be guilty for. Most of the things that happened were my fault."

"Not the sleepwalking, not getting hit by a truck or getting poisoned. Those were my doing. I should have been smarter…but I wasn't and I'm sorry."

"Tony, I-"

"Stop. This is the only time you're gonna hear my apology so just…just accept it."

Tim opened his mouth, but he thought twice about it, so he closed it and nodded.

"Good. Now since Rinnert, Andrade, and Harris are all dead, it all should be over…for you and the team."

McGee smiled sadly in understanding. No point in arguing. He suddenly yawned, a feeling of sheer exhaustion washing over him.

"Alright, enough with all this touchy-feely gushy crap," Tony said, standing up and stretching as much as he could with his one arm and mending ribs. He smiled as he pat Tim's good shoulder. "Get some rest, buddy."

"Thanks, Tony."

"No problem. I know you could never go without the awesome advice by someone none other than Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo."

"Tony-"

"Yeah, I know."

"Tim smiled and shook his head before closing his eyes and slumping back onto the pillows. Tony watched as Tim's breathing slowed and deepened, indicating that he was already fast asleep. He smiled and dimmed the lights before walking out the door. This was the best he'd felt all month. This was the best he'd seen Tim at all month, too. God had answered his prayers; things had gotten better.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Abby walked into the hospital, excited as ever. Timmy was being released at five and that was only two hours away. She strode down the hallway, heading for Tim's room. Her heart panged in familiarity; she'd been to this play way to much in the past month. More than she had been here for Tony.

When she had heard about the car crash from Gibbs, she broke down into tears. Both agents were severely hurt and they were on their way to the hospital. In seven minutes flat, she booked it to the place and had been pacing and worrying it they were okay. She shook the past out of her mind as she finally reached McGee's room. The door was open slightly and the lights were low, telling her that her geek was resting. Tiptoeing into the room, she carefully sat on the edge of Tim's bed and looked at the peacefully sleeping man. He looked so cute when he was sleeping, his mouth slack and his bottom lip pouted. His light snoring emanated from his mouth, it being soft and even with his breathing. He was lying on his good side that had no stab wound, broken collarbone or ribs. The casted arm hugged the pillows tightly to his face, causing Abby to smile; she couldn't resist, she had to touch him. Reaching out with her finger, Abby traced McGee's fringe, down across his temple to his cheek and under his lip.

Suddenly, Tim inhaled and his mouth broke out into a weak, sleepy smile.

"Timmy?" Abby asked eagerly.

After a moment, Tim's eyes opened, revealing the bright green eyes Abby missed so much.

"Mm…Abby?" Tim groaned.

"In the flesh."

McGee grinned as he closed his eyes and carefully shifted onto his back. Once he did, he was immediately drained of all strength. "W-when did you get here?"

"A couple of minutes ago. You're getting released at five."

That seemed to wake McGee up. "Really?"

"Yep, and I get to be your at home nurse for a couple of days 'til you feel better. There's only one more thing."

"What?"

"You still have one more session with Rachel, but she's gonna come here this time."

"When?"

"In two minutes."

Tim sighed.

"Don't worry; it's your last one, okay? Then you'll be able to go home."

McGee looked at Abby and nodded, pursing his lips.

"I'll be right outside if you need anything, okay? Oh, and she's here." Abby smiled as she began to walk out the door.

"Good afternoon, Timothy," Rachel said cheerfully. "Let's wrap this up, shall we?"

**Let's really wrap this up shall we? A chapter or two to go :) Comments :) BTW sorry for any mistakes.**


	31. Home

**Chapter 31**

**Hello again! Sorry for the uber long wait. I just lost passion for the story for a while, but now I got it back. Anyways I would never leave a story unfinished. But any who, here's the final chapter of Hitman's chapter and thanks to everyone who stuck with the story and reviewed all the way! Thanks and Enjoy!"**

"So Tim, how are you feeling? The car accident was a little unexpected, don't you think?"

"Uh, yeah," Tim chuckled, "you could say that again."

Rachel smiled and then tapped her pen on her notepad. "Are you okay, though…mentally?"

Tim looked up from staring at his hands and stared at his therapist. Was he okay? The thought had never occurred to him until now. He took a deep breath; there was nothing to worry about. All three men that tried to kill him were dead and he was safe. His team made sure of that and he knew they would never let anything like this happen to him ever again.

"Yeah, you know it's a bit of a shock now that I think about it, but, I don't know, the worse is over and even if it's not, I have my team- my family- to protect me."

"And have you had any nightmares since our last session?"

"Come to think of it, no I haven't. I've been sleeping like a baby," smiled Tim.

Rachel grinned. "That's great to hear, Tim. I'm positive that you'll be back on your feet in no time at all." Then she began scribbling something down on her notepad.

Tim eagerly craned his neck, trying to get a glimpse of what she was writing, but was unsuccessful.

"I'm clearing you to go back to work once you're feeling better, and ONLY if you are feeling better."

Tim's face lit up. "Really? I-I can start working again?"

Rachel chuckled, "Yes, but you still need to rest, take small steps."

Tim beamed as he let out a happy sigh.

"Well, I'll leave you to rest up; I heard that you're getting discharged today. But, if you _ever_ need anything, do not hesitate to call."

"Thanks Rachel. You really helped me get through a lot of this."

Rachel smiled and patted Tim on the knee before leaving the room. Her work there was done and it ended with a major success.

~~~NCIS~~~

"Easy, now, easy. Slow it down, Tim, there's no rush, alright?" Gibbs said as he helped Tim out of the wheelchair and into the passenger seat of the car. By the time McGee sat down, he was winded and sweating profusely.

"I know…I know, I just…I want t-to get away…from here. It's pr-practically my third home and it's not the best…place for happy, jolly celebrating," Tim panted.

Gibbs chuckled and shook his head. Then he noticed that his agent's face was too pale and lined with pain.

"Are you okay?" He asked in concern.

"Y-yeah," Tim said, closing his eyes. "Just really…really…sore."

Gibbs smirked and patted Tim on the shoulder. He shut the door and quickly went around to the driver's side. Starting the engine, Gibbs- for once- very slowly drove out of the parking lot. Five minutes out, Tim reopened his eyes, his breathing calm and the pallor disappearing. Once Gibbs saw this, he was satisfied and kept on driving. The kid was going to be alright.

*N*C*I*S 

Tim's head was starting to dip and his eyelids were getting heavier and heavier by the moment. The soft motor of the car wasn't helping either, the sound lulling him to sleep. He tried keeping his eyes open, but the short trip from the wheelchair to the car had taken all the energy out of him. So, in seconds, he succumbed to the darkness. He knew that when he woke up, he'd be safe, he'd still be alive, and there would be no more assassins. His team was there for him and they always would be.

Gibbs looked over to Tim once more and rolled his eyes. The kid, once again, was fast asleep and he chuckled. Typical McGee.

~~~NCIS~~~

**Three Weeks Later**

The elevator dinged for the hundredth time, and once again, there was no Tim. Abby stopped jumping, again, and frowned.

"What if he doesn't come, Gibbs," she complained.

"Don't worry Abby, I'm sure he doesn't want to spend another day stuck it his apartment."

"Yeah, Abs, I went to see him last night, and he was working on some cold case file already; the guy can stay away," said Tony.

~+NCIS+~

The elevator hummed quietly as it rose up to his preferred floor. Tim took a deep and nervous breath; it'd been almost three months since he'd been back at NCIS and it felt…weird. But he was anxious to get back to work; he couldn't stand being holed up in his apartment any longer. A loud ding brought him out of his rambling thoughts. _This is it._ Stepping out of the elevator he was immediately attacked by a black blur. Abby.

"Timmy! I've missed you so much! I haven't seen you in, like, forever…well not forever, I saw you last night and a couple nights before that and-"

"I know Abs and I missed you, too."

"Abby, let McGeek breathe," Tony said prying her off his friend with his good hand.

"Oh…sorry."

Tim smiled then looked at Tony. They stared at each other for a moment before Tony took the first step and brought McGee into a brotherly embrace.

"Good to have you back, Tim; my brother from another mother," he whispered.

Tim chuckled. "It's good to be back/"

They broke apart and Ziva came forth, hugging him and kissing him on the cheek.

"I've missed you so much, Tim."

"I've missed you too, Z."

Then Ducky came up and pat Tim on the arm. "Welcome home, lad. You seem to be getting better."

"Thanks, Ducky."

The last, but not least, Gibbs stepped forward and smiled. He put out his hand and McGee took it gratefully. For a second, they shook, but then unexpectedly, Gibbs pulled Tim- his youngest son- into a tight hug.

Tim smiled weakly, a tear rolling down his cheek. God, it felt so good to be back. He tightened his grip around his boss, trembling slightly and smelling the faint scent of wood on his clothes. Gibbs smirked as he held onto Tim. He almost lost his surrogate son to a killer, to a gunshot wound, to poison, to depression, to insanity, to attempted suicide, and to a car crash, but all in all, Tim came through. They helped their family member get through the worse and he would never, ever let this happen to Tim or any other member of his team.

"It's good to have you back, Tim. I'm glad you're okay."

Ah Gibbs. The man of few words; simple words that said so much. Tim stifled a sob as he squeezed his eyes shut, holding back the tears that threatened to come. He couldn't break down now, not here.

Finally, the two broke apart and Gibbs pat Tim on the shoulder. Tim grinned and nodded, taking a deep shaky breath. Immediately after, Abby clung to McGee's arm, never wanting to let go. She nearly lost her Timmy to death to many times. She was afraid that if she let him go, he'd disappear, again, behind a mask of depression and fear.

The team walked into the bullpen and watched as Tim sat down, getting used to his surroundings again. For a moment McGee was silent, an unreadable expression on his face.

"You okay, Tim?" Tony frowned.

"Yeah, just…it's been awhile."

"We understand, Timmy. Take as long as you want to get things back to normal, okay?" Abby said sweetly.

"Thanks you guys. I don't know what I'd do without you. I'd probably be dead, actually."

Suddenly, a head slap came out of nowhere.

"Ah!" He turned around and saw Abby glaring at him. Then he looked around and saw that Tony and Ziva were avoiding eye contact and Ducky and Gibbs were looking at him sadly.

"Don't start talking about that Timmy. You're better and that's what matters."

Tim grinned sheepishly. "Sorry."

There was an awkward silence before Tim broke it. "Thanks. You guys have been through a lot and I shouldn't be bringing back any memories. Abby's right; I'm feeling better and all I want to do right now is catch some bastards today."

Everyone grinned or chuckled, before Gibbs went serious.

"Hey! Why are we all standing around? Let's get to work!"

The team scattered, Abby kissing Tim on the cheek before rushing downstairs and Ducky chuckling as he followed. Before Gibbs went to his desk, he smiled and bobbed his head at Tim. McGee returned the gesture before powering up his computer. While he was waiting, he looked around the bullpen, from Tony to Ziva and to Gibbs. They all went through a lot together, but like he said, he didn't want to bring up the past; for him or for the team. He loved them and they loved him. His life was finally normal once again.

**The End**

**Sucky ending I know, I just didn't know **_**how**_** to end it. Well, I hope you like the story and thanks again for reading!**


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